Hear All About It
by DollyMillionaire
Summary: "You've got a heart as loud as lions So why let your voice be tamed? Maybe we're a little different, There's no need to be ashamed." Erik a is recluse award winning musician, who hates cameras and people, while Christine is a vlogger who finds herself after she stumbles into him on the red carpet. It's love at first sight and the media want to cash in on it.
1. Chapter 1

This was inspired by a dream I had and by Emeli Sandé's 'Read All About It (Part III)'. I wanted to write a long story now that I'm home for the summer, But I'll be trying to post every day.

* * *

**_Emeli Sandé's 'Read All About It (Part III)_**

_You've got the words to change a nation_  
_But you're biting your tongue_  
_You've spent a life time stuck in silence_  
_Afraid you'll say something wrong_  
_If no one ever hears it how we gonna learn your song?_

_So come on, come on_  
_Come on, come on_  
_You've got a heart as loud as lions_  
_So why let your voice be tamed?_  
_Maybe we're a little different_  
_There's no need to be ashamed_  
_You've got the light to fight the shadows_  
_So stop hiding it away_  
_Come on, come on_

_I wanna sing, I wanna shout_  
_I wanna scream 'til the words dry out_  
_So put it in all of the papers,_  
_I'm not afraid_  
_They can read all about it_  
_Read all about it, oh_  
_Oh-oh-oh (x6)_

_At night we're waking up the neighbors_  
_While we sing away the blues_  
_Making sure that we remember, yeah_  
_Cause we all matter too_  
_If the truth has been forbidden_  
_Then we're breaking all the rules_

_So come on, come on_  
_Come on, come on,_  
_Let's get the TV and the radio_  
_To play our tune again_  
_It's 'bout time we got some airplay of our version of events_  
_There's no need to be afraid_  
_I will sing with you my friend_  
_Come on, come on_

_I wanna sing, I wanna shout_  
_I wanna scream 'til the words dry out_  
_So put it in all of the papers,_  
_I'm not afraid_  
_They can read all about it_  
_Read all about it, oh_  
_Oh-oh-oh (x6)_

_Yeah, we're all wonderful, wonderful people_  
_So when did we all get so fearful?_  
_Now we're finally finding our voices_  
_So take a chance, come help me sing this_  
_Yeah, we're all wonderful, wonderful people_  
_So when did we all get so fearful?_  
_And now we're finally finding our voices_  
_Just take a chance, come help me sing this_

_I wanna sing, I wanna shout_  
_I wanna scream 'til the words dry out_  
_So put it in all of the papers,_  
_I'm not afraid_  
_They can read all about it_  
_Read all about it, oh_  
_Oh-oh-oh (x6)_

_I wanna sing, I wanna shout_  
_I wanna scream 'til the words dry out_  
_So put it in all of the papers,_  
_I'm not afraid_  
_They can read all about it_  
_Read all about it, oh_

* * *

"Get away from me, Nadir, you pathetic _imbecile_. I have no time for this." Erik growled, turning back to the piano as he began to grumble under his breath. He foraged through his music sheets, feeling the eyes of the Persian standing behind him focused solely on the back of his head. He hated his dear friend, true, and it was for the sole reason that Nadir seemed determined to keep him in the land of living, and worse still, to get him to socialize. Nothing sounded worse to Erik, and he was quite happy to let Nadir socialize for him. But he was indeed a dear friend, the only one that he would ever know, and for reasons he would rather forget.

"I think you have plenty of time for this, seeing as you have no work now." Nadir remarked, crossing the room, pulling out his phone to check his calendar. The next few months could have been filled with a good number of projects, like the last couple of years had gone, but Erik had been distracted the last few days with his work. His one masterpiece that he could be proud of. It was calling to him again.

"I've told you, I'm taking a break to pursue my opera, you know the one." Erik said, turning his mask casually as he told him, gesturing to the mess of paperwork strewn across the piano that was dropping onto the floor.

"Yes, I remember." Nadir replied flatly, nudging a piece of paper with his foot. He stepped forward to stand before him, and persisted again, "You have to attend, they're expecting you and I'll be damned if you're going to miss it just so you can work on a masterpiece you won't even let me sell."

Erik rolled his eyes, though Nadir had no real clue, due to the magnificent mask that Erik wore. It was sculpted to appear as Michelangelo's David, and covered his whole face, over the top of his head, and down the sides, hiding his entire head. It was perfectly molded to fit his head, and it was eerie to look at, which was made worse by the eccentricities of his nature. The eyes had been carved to look as though there were pupils, and there was a thin black material in those pupils, which is where Nadir often claimed he saw but it was impossible. To the naked eye, it would only look as though there were no holes for Erik to look through, the same as the nose, but Nadir still had no clue how he could hear. Erik had assured him on several occasions that he could, having tested more than once that not only could he hear, but speak clearly and see perfectly too. Nadir had grown bored at some point, as he did whenever Erik went on one of his rants, and Erik had tried to entertain him by launching into a whole explanation of the new kind of material he had used, and there must have been a joke about mirrors somewhere, because he remembered having to prompt Nadir to laugh at some point, but the whole time he hadn't really been listening as closely as he should have been. Erik had never been very good with people, despising everyone on a whole, so it never surprised either of them that Erik wasn't a very good host. But still, Erik expected something of Nadir, they had gone through so much together. Was Erik so boring? There was now the strange silence that filled the room.

Nadir stared back at him, shaking his head, and placed his hands on his hips. "You know damn well I have no idea what you're thinking, but let me tell you what I'm thinking. I'm thinking that you're going to come with me and accept the award!"

Erik chuckled. "You're so certain I'll win?"

It was a joke between them. Erik's music was created for multiple purposes, and he invariably won a multitude of awards. He had written compositions for a number of high budget movies, a variety of scores for video games, multiple albums released, too many to count on his digits, and he occasionally sold his music to wealthy patronages. Not that they deserved it, he thought. It was the same thing, over and over, and it would be this way until he died. And death _was_ coming for him. But before he died, he wished to make one final offering to the world. He had promised to write an opera some years ago, but then had it destroyed before Nadir could read it and sell it. Nadir must have wondered now if this masterpiece was the same opera he had burned. They looked at the floor; there was enough mess to suggest it was.

"Why do you think I want you to attend? I want you to show off for once. You make this music and hide it. You're so secretive about it, but you're perfectly happy to sell it to the highest bidder aren't you? So I think our investors should get to see the man who makes their music. So get dressed, we're leaving in fifteen minutes!" Nadir announced, striding out of the music room and out into the living room, towards the front door where there was a coat stand waiting for him. Nadir grabbed his jacket and walked towards the bookstand so Erik could see him from his music room.

Erik turned away from Nadir and back to the piano once more. "I shall do no such thing. You know I hate cameras. How absurd of you to suggest it," The white mask spun around to peer at Nadir from over his shoulder. "And what makes you think that I need to be there after all this time? I've never gone before, you've always attended for me, so what is it?"

"I'm not playing these games with you; I'm ordering you to do as I say. I'm your friend and _more importantly_, your manager for a reason, and I'm tired of being your face." Nadir barked, clutching his coat in his hands tightly.

Nadir froze as he realized the mistake he had made, but Erik remained motionless, and silent as he watched him, until he sat up straight, and hung his head. "I know my friend that it is not easy to own this face, but that doesn't mean I should push off this responsibility onto you." He sighed, and looked around him. "I still do not think that there is any point to my going, but I can see that this is important to you."

"Erik, it's important to _both_ of us. _You_ need structure and to socialize and_ I_ need a regular income and a regular sleep pattern." Nadir concluded. "And you never know, you might have fun and meet new people."

Erik turned to look at him again, and stared at Nadir venomously. How could Erik ever have fun around another single human other than Nadir? Humans, on the whole, were lying, cheating, manipulative rats that should be extinct.

"I know, highly unlikely, but it would make me happy to see you out in public. I think you'll find that people are interested in you and want to talk to you outside of work." Nadir said, putting on his coat.

Erik laughed callously. "Of course, because people are just _dying_ to know me, wouldn't you say so Nadir?"

Nadir paused, one arm in his sleeve. "Please Erik, I have asked you never to bring that up." He stole a glance at Erik, who nodded apologetically as the memory of their history together passed.

"Forgive me, that was rude."

Nadir laughed to ease some of the tension. "Aren't you always rude?"

Erik nodded his head, and stood up, brushing aside the papers lightly with his fingertips. "True."

Erik approached his bedroom gracefully, placing his hands around the mask, his tall and dark figure gliding across the room like a ghost. Nadir called out, having already approached the front door, and was now peering around it.

"Fifteen minutes, Erik. I'll be waiting downstairs."

"Ten, I should think. I won't be putting that much attention into my appearance, and I hope you don't expect me to remain around the cameras?" Erik called from behind closed and locked doors.

"You can approach this however you want. If you can fit an interview in there that would be great. Remember, you're hopeful and friendly." Nadir replied, pulling out his phone to message the limo below.

"I think that's asking a bit too much, Nadir."

"Perhaps, but in any situation, friendly is good." Nadir finished, shutting the door behind him promptly.

* * *

Christine opened the bathroom door, a large cloud of stream erupting from the room, and she stepped out, staring at the dress laid out on the bed just around the corner of the bathroom. It was beautiful, a long white dress with a shimmer effect that had looked amazing when she had bought it, but now it looked ghastly and fragile lying on the hotel bed. She stepped around the corner, towards the end of the bed, drying herself off as she sat before the mirror, staring at the invite on the dressing tablet that sat opposite her double bed. Her head felt fuzzy, and she wanted to lie down and just sleep, but she knew she couldn't. She had an award show to go to, which still hadn't clicked in Christine's head that it was all really happening, and she wasn't even really that interested in going, but it had been prompted by Chris Wright, a TV show presenter back home in London who had brought her onto the show to discuss the viral video she had made, and one thing had led to another.

It had started with her channel. Being a vlogger meant she could express herself in a multitude of ways. It was a way for her to vent and have fun and communicate, but mostly it was an escape for her. An escape from the grief that now lay dormant inside her. It was all she could feel, and it was as though a horrible monster was following her around, everywhere she went. Her videos had allowed her to pretend she had friends and give her life some kind of structure. It also meant that she could show her followers only what she wanted them to see, thanks to her editing skills. It was like as though she was editing herself, making herself into what she wanted to be, what she wanted her followers to think of her. She had plenty of followers and enough to them talked back to her, so it was an illusion of popularity, and they seemed interested enough in her. Her videos weren't usually that long, around 10 minutes or so, about various subjects and reports that had been in the news. She made occasional videos dedicated to opening the mail they had sent her, which was never usually long, but it made her and her viewers happy, which was all she cared about. She often had random videos too, just about her life and her feelings, which didn't gain any more attention than the rest of the videos, but it was enough to keep her soul at ease. It wasn't enough to explain her ease her feelings over her dead father however.

A few weeks ago, she had written and performed a song, not to be taken seriously, but it had been witty and funny enough that her usual amount of views had doubled, then tripled, then made it onto the local news, and continued to spread across the internet. It had led to her being asked to appear on some late night comedy show with a presenter she had never found funny, answering questions about her song and none on her channel. He had made some jokes, and she had politely laughed with him, but then he had brought out an envelope, and Christine could feel the embarrassment building up inside her. He was going to ask her either to sing or give her a present she would never end up using, like a gift card to a shop she had never heard of before, or a subscription to some magazine. But it had turned out to be two tickets for her to go to a music award show in America. She had been amazed and surprised, but not as much when after the show he had cheekily asked if there was anyone she would be taking, but she had answered no. And it was true. There was no-one. No-one apart from Raoul, but it felt wrong to take him, he was like a brother, and to share the same room and the same bed at their age was improper. Besides, he only would have been bored. Raoul was funny that way. He didn't see the week she would be spending in New York as an adventure, he saw it as a risk. He liked being safe, and he had warned Christine not to go, claiming that New York was a dangerous place. She knew it was dangerous, but she wasn't in a movie. She was just going to a TV awards show, it was no big deal. There would be cameras, but it was no big deal. She might even meet celebrities, but it was _no big deal_.

No matter how hard Christine tried, no matter how many times she told herself those three little words, she could not get the thought of standing before celebrities and photographers out of her head. She hoped she would be able to get a few autographs. It _was_ a big deal! She could just imagine walking down the red carpet, looking so beautiful. And in front of photographers and journalists and talk show hosts! She had wished now that she had brought Raoul along, just only so she had somehow to talk her through her nerves. It was all a mistake, she shouldn't have been there alone. When he had asked her one last time if she didn't want him to come, back in the airport, she had said no, and that she was okay. He had been so protective those last few days, and she had felt so clouded by him. At first, it had been endearing, but now it had become annoying.

After having gotten on the plane, she stared at the invite in her hands, staring at her name written across it. The whole buzz of her 'internet sensation' as Chris Wright had put it, had faded, and she would be surprised if anyone was really interested in meeting her and discussing her channel. She highly doubted that she would get a job out of the whole affair, but there was really no reason why she shouldn't go. If she presented herself nicely enough, there was the chance that she would get her photo some of the magazines. She might not have had anyone else to go with her, but it was a chance to go to America, even if it was only for a week. So she had landed that morning, very dreary and sleep headed. She had stayed awake to video the whole experience on her small digital camera. Everything from arriving at the airport, to land in New York. She had videoed the whole thing, and decided to do some light editing as she arrived at the hotel. She found she couldn't stay awake though, and after having a nap, she had left to go get ready, but now, finally sitting down and just thinking had led her to wonder whether or not this was a good idea. She had never left England before, but she had gone there from Scandinavia back when she was young and when her father had been alive, so while this wasn't a new experience, it sure felt like it.

She gave a silent prayer for her father as she finished drying her hair, and sat in silence as she thought of his smile, his warm hugs, his scrambled eggs in the morning, the way he held her hand when walking her to school, and his mustache which would rub against her whenever he kissed her. He had been the one who had taught her to sing when she was young, and she had been gifted, or so he had told her on a daily basis, but after he had died her voice had died with him. She had lost all desire to sing, and as opposed to when she would sing every free moment of every waking day, she now only sang to remember her father. That song she had written and performed had been dedicated to him, but the presenter hadn't been too interested in hearing that side of the story, and had only really been interested in her sex life, much to her disgust. He didn't know that her song was the first real song she had sung in years. It was awful. It was hilarious to watch but it was still awful. She didn't sound anything like she used to do, and it showed. She wished she had kept up with her father's training, but the memory of her father was too much to bear.

Christine rubbed her arms, and prayed for her father again, wondering what he thought of her now, up in heaven, after all these years. He probably wept for her. Brushing off these thoughts, she began to get dressed, and put on some make-up after searching her suitcases for her shoes. They were a bit wobbly, but she figured she would only be walking for a little bit, and then doing a lot of sitting. It was nothing she couldn't handle. She had been practicing in the clear strappy shoes, but she was so unsure of herself now. She wished she had brought different shoes. None of the ones she had brought for her other outfits matched. It had all been planned out by the other girls at the cafe, down to each bracelet and earring. Christine had no clue about fashion, but she trusted their opinion. She had a few minutes before she had to leave, so she switched on her camera and filmed the view from her window, remaining silent as she watched the people go about their lives below, while she felt isolated and fearful. She wished fervently that her father was alive so that he could guide and protect her. Christine grabbed her purse, dropping her camera inside, and after a few minutes of practicing to walk in high heels, she left, anxious and afraid.

* * *

**I'd love to see some reviews, or any comments or questions!**


	2. Chapter 2

**_La Seine - Vanessa Paradis_**

_French_

_Elle sort de son lit, tellement sur d'elle  
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine  
tellement jolie elle m'ensorcelle  
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine_

_Extralucide la lune est sur  
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine  
Tu n'es pas saoul  
Paris est sous  
La Seine, La Seine, La Seine_

_English_

_She's resplendent, so confident,  
__La Seine, La Seine, La Seine.  
__I realize I'm hypnotized,  
L__a Seine, La Seine, La Seine._

_I hear the moon singing a tune _  
_La Seine, La Seine, La Seine _  
_Is she divine? Is it the wine? _  
_La Seine, La Seine, La Seine_

* * *

The whole experience had been more nauseating and terrifying than Erik had expected. The cool night air was disturbed by the hundreds of clicking cameras, shouting paparazzi and laughing socialites. He hated it, and was determined to get through the whole experience as soon as possible. He had carefully placed himself near security, where the celebrities appeared to begin their walk down the red carpet, far away from the entrance of the hotel, where the awards were taking place. He could see on the other side of the red carpet, there was a metal barrier which held back the photographers, and the presenters with their cameras. All along the red carpet, all of the photographers were waiting just for him. No doubt this was a field day for them. The disgusting recluse out of his lofty prison. Erik was behind a large leafy plant, that served as a decoration, placed by the start of the red carpet that he had found quite useful. He had his back to the cameras, but they were all trained on him, and he couldn't help but clench his hands in frustration. His gloved hand raised up and tried to adjust the mask, as he found it rubbing on his cheeks, and he shot a cursory glance over to Nadir, who was talking to some dim witted man about _his_ music, and who were both stood in open view. He observed both of their suits, and finally looked down at his own suit. It was nice, specially tailored for him, which was a requirement of all of his clothes as he was so unnaturally thin, and he wore black leather gloves to match. He wore the same black suit and tie as both men, and saw there was no obvious difference between them. The man Nadir spoke to was of average height and weight, whereas Erik was tall and thin. He could almost pretend that was no difference between them at all. If only it wasn't for his mask.

Erik cursed to himself as a redhead appeared and proceeded to wrap her arm around the man's, and cooed to him to join her, standing so she was in full sight of the cameras. Ah yes, _that_ was why they were so different, after all. _Women_. The noisy creatures that they were avoided him like the plague, and he preferred it that way! They were all money grabbing little _vipers_ that would stick their hands in men's pockets and run away when it pleased them. There were one or two that he could admire, a few women throughout history of mankind who stuck out from the rest of the human race, but the women that surrounded him now were the ones he truly loathed. They were a pathetic imitation of what beauty should look like. Women were so beautiful without their make-up and their dresses, why did they feel the need to cut and remold their faces and bodies to improve themselves? But he couldn't blame them, if there was a surgery to take away his disgusting features then he would do it too. These imposters were so certain of their beauty that he both hated, and was jealous of, the women who were attending the awards on the arms of 'dashing' men, and of the men that got to take them. The mask had been the real reason why he hated people. Or at least, it was covering the reason why. He had been horrifically deformed since birth, and had been labelled a monster in his hometown. In this day and age, he was still stunned that people still had so much hate in them. He had spent his early childhood hiding in his mother's house, who had loathed him, but then he had been forced into the outside world, where pain, hate and anger greeted him like a welcome friend. There had been no love for Erik, and he believed there never would be. He would never be a normal man, with a wife and child (and _how_ he did long for _both_!), no person would ever look on him with love, and he would never know the touch of another willing person.

He watched the redhead nonetheless, watching the way her skin pressed against the man's suit, how close her lips were to his ears and the sultry look in her eyes once the man had said his goodbyes to Nadir and had given a terrified nod to Erik. She gave Erik a bored glance, gulping at the realization that he had been watching her, and then walked away with the man. Erik watched after her, feeling jealousy and hate rise up in him, but it left as Nadir's calming touch came in the form of a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not hate him, Erik. You do give a terrifying first impression. You never said a word to him, you hardly paid any attention, so you can't blame him for being a bit scared."

Erik turned to look at Nadir, amazed that Nadir had come to _that_ conclusion, and watched for a moment as Nadir's eyes darted about Erik's mask, searching for some form of emotion, but it was pointless. Nadir was so clueless. Why didn't he just look at the eyes?

"Can we just get this over with?" Erik hissed, clenching and unclenching his hands. "This is humiliating enough and I suspect they have enough pictures of me now."

It had only been a few minutes since they had arrived and Erik had tried to keep to the shadows as much as he could, but there was were none to be found when there were dozens of flashing lights aimed towards him, and Nadir kept elbowing him in the back to step forward. He gritted his teeth. This wasn't how he wanted to spend his evening. He wanted to stay in his apartment and just focus on his music. This was a nightmare to him, and he wondered how he had ever gotten into this mess. Perhaps it was because he trusted Nadir, which was saying a lot as he trusted no-one. He wouldn't have trusted Nadir either, had it not been for the fact that Nadir had saved his life a long time ago. Nadir should have left him to die, and Erik would have thanked him for it, but for some reason, Nadir saw something good in Erik and had decided to spend his life as Erik's constant companion. Watching over him as a faithful ally. Or a concerned guard. When it had been discovered that Erik was a brilliant musician, Nadir had announced himself to be his new manager, which was the way it had been for the last few years. Nadir took over his other businesses, as Erik had a wealthy empire, built of architectural firms, hotels, many local businesses, and he had a number of loyal henchmen across the world, ready to do his command. He had a lot of hands in a lot of pots, so to speak, and he had everyone under his thumb. It was the only way he could stay safe. Despite the power, despite everything, he still could not make someone look at him without flinching in horror, even when he had the mask on. He was not known to be polite, and it had earned him a reputation amongst the other celebrities of him being rather standoffish. Many of them couldn't understand his behavior, and he was an outcast even amongst them. He had worked with more than a few of them, but he never met them. If for any reason, he was required to speak with them, he did it over the phone, or let Nadir handle it. They all got on so much better with Nadir. They didn't fear a man they could look in the eye. Erik was sure that Nadir only felt pity for him, and Erik couldn't blame him. Who would ever feel anything other than pity for him?

But this wasn't the time or the place to dwell on such things. Right now, he needed to try and relax, while staying as far away from the cameras as he could. He needed to keep his head together, or he wasn't sure what would happen.

"One interview? Please, Erik, you need more publicity, and even just one interview would be great, you just need to-"

"I never agreed to that." Erik stated emotionlessly. He glanced over to the reporters waiting behind the iron dividers. They had calmed down, but still keeping an eye on him, and a few quick bursts of lights and clicks confirmed that they had all taken a few photos. He groaned again, and looked back at Nadir.

"No, but you did agree to come here. And coming here means interacting with the human race. And the human race would like to interact with you too." Nadir replied. It _had_ been a while since Erik had even seen a person other than Nadir, but that didn't mean he wanted to. "It doesn't even have to be a hard interview, just answer a few questions-"

"I should think that by now I know how to answer an interview, God knows you give me one every day." Erik grumbled, adjusting his tie and gloves, before saying to Nadir in an amused tone, "And you never turn up at the right time, you just show up randomly, _every day_."

"Well, believe it or not Erik, I have a life outside of you. A social life, if you can believe it, and the curse of having a social life is that I like to hang around other people who have a social life, and you do _need_ a social life." Nadir laughed, handing Erik his invite.

Erik stiffened, sensing what Nadir had been implying, and coughed it off, sweeping his clothes clear of any dust and took the invite, placing it in his jacket pocket.

"Go get seated. I will be along momentarily." Erik told him solemnly.

Nadir's eyes widened. "Really? You're going to do this on your own? Wouldn't you rather have me there?-"

"No, I would not. You're too much of a distraction. I shall be fine."

"I'd rather stay with you. You might need me to step in and I should be-" Nadir argued.

"-going and getting us our seats? How marvelous, what a wonderful idea. Go on then, I'll join you shortly."

Nadir furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. "Very well Erik. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I do. Giving myself a chance to humiliate and annoy these damn reporters who insist on knowing _everything_." Erik grumbled, gazing at them once more.

Nadir shook his head. For years, being the recluse genius that he was, Erik had been persistently dogged by hundreds of reporters and paparazzi, and Nadir had almost come close to help Erik bury a body on a few occasions. No wonder he wanted to watch over him. Erik didn't care; he secretly enjoyed toying with them all. It was a distraction for him, a funny and useful toy for him to play with in-between the music and designs. When he could be bothered with them. There was one that persistently followed him, and he had managed to bring up all kinds of embarrassing stories, about his childhood, and from the few people he interacted with through his businesses. To Erik, it was as though this particular photographer had been born to find Erik without his mask on. He wasn't here tonight, thankfully. He didn't waste his time with stories that everyone else could report.

Nadir shrugged, making sure that Erik could see it. "If you want. Don't let it get too far though. Be friendly, remember, and try not to frighten anyone."

"You say that as though I have any choice in the matter." Erik called as Nadir began to walk away.

"You have more choice than you are led to believe." Nadir called back, strolling over to the hotel's entrance.

Erik shook his head, his back still facing the cameras, and tried to adjust his mask again. It was pulling on his cheeks, rubbing them raw, as he felt carefully around the curls of the mask's hair to see if he could peel it off of his face, which was now stuck. It wouldn't move, and he soon gave up, turning around to present himself to the reporters. The cameras fired off quicker than before, and the reporters had resorted to shouting their questions, reaching out to him as he watched them motionless. The other celebrities who were taking interviews stared at him in silence, looking at each other with wide eyes and open mouths.

They looked like rats to him. All of them. Worthless, shrieking rats that served no purpose other than to spread the plague that they called newsworthy. They weren't really interested in him, but in the mask. He glared at each of their faces, finding only hate boiling in his blood as they stared and gawped and shouted and pleaded. He felt as though he had been in a cage all of this life, and to be paraded amongst these people was a cruel torture. He wanted the freedom to be himself, with no overbearing mother (Alas, Nadir had wilfully stepped into that role), instead of being here, performing for the squealing vermin that they were.

He took only a few steps forward, and stood for a few moments as a space cleared between some of the celebrities. It was so hard to hear anything, the noise was deafening, and it was blinding too. He hardly knew where he was standing. He waited for a few seconds to pass so that the photographers could take their photos, hoping their flashes would stop, and was about to step forward to address a reporter with her cameraman, when something white caught the corner of his eye. It came from his left, and looked more solid than the flashes he was seeing. He turned his head to look, but saw only a mass of blonde ringlets surrounded in white come tumbling, head first, into his path and directly into his arms. He only had a few seconds to collect the small figure in his arms, but it had been falling too fast and crashed into him, causing them both to collapse to the floor. He heard a small gasp as they fell, and instinctively he positioned his body so that the figure would fall on top of him, instead of the hitting the red carpet. He had no clue as to why he would do such a thing, but it had been an immediate reaction.

He lay in silence, the cameras clicking and whirring to get a photo, the celebrities laughing and gasping, but he couldn't see them. He was watching the crown of a girl's head. It was lying on his chest, her face turned away from the cameras. What was the stupid, clumsy _girl_ doing on the red carpet? She definitely didn't belong here, and it was making him look like an idiot! He looked at his hands, and found them grasped firmly around her wrists. He quickly pressed his fingers to her wrists and was relieved to see her pulse was strong. That meant she could stand at least. He would have dragged her to her feet, but it would have looked bad in front of the cameras. He considered doing it anyway, but before he could decide, she moaned softly, and propped herself up on one arm, turning her head to face him as she still laid on top of him.

"I'm so sorry, I-" Here, she paused, taking in the strangeness of the mask, and to Erik's surprise, continued on apologizing. "I didn't mean to do it! I didn't even see you! I'm not used to walking in heels!"

Erik had listened with a mix of horror, surprise and above all, adoration. Her voice was so _charming_. It was a British accent, with hints of something else, and it was so quiet and gentle. She had sounded breathless, and he knew it was because of the mask. She was staring at him now, her light blue eyes firmly fixed on the mask's pupils, indirectly looking into his own eyes. It amazed him. She was waiting for a response, unlike Nadir who usually tried to force Erik to speak. Her pink lips were pursed, as though she wanted to ask something, but she was holding herself back. He had still been holding onto her wrists and she had seemed transfixed by him. Her pulse had quickened, and at first he had assumed from shock, but it was still going strong. It felt good to him, to feel her heartbeat. He had never held a woman's wrists before, and they were so soft and warm. Erik quickly let go of them, stunned by his own actions.

_What have I done? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _He thought, horrified, as visions of his mother's horrified face appeared before his eyes.

She gently squeezed his shoulder. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Hello?" She asked, her eyes widening, and Erik watched the long black lashes rise and fall against her cheeks.

"No, I..." Erik found himself saying and stopped himself suddenly. _What am I doing? Who is she? I shouldn't be talking to her. I don't want to. But I do. Look at her, what a fragile creature!_

But she was already starting to sit up, and Erik could now see her entire form. She was kneeling beside his reclined form, in a white dress, that glittered gently, and she was sweeping her hands up to get her hair away from her face. Dozens of small golden ringlets fell around her face and down around her chest. She was still watching him, and she smiled at him. But then she saw the camera's flash bounce off of his mask and looked up to the cameras. She suddenly changed, her attitude showing her discomfort, and turned around reaching for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the worst, but found that she was trying to help him up. He could feel her tiny fingers curl around his arm and she tried to gently force them both up together.

"I'm fine." He replied quietly as he opened his eyes. This angel before him was by far too tempting a treat.

She bowed her head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She paused, waiting for a response, but went on to say, "I _honestly_ didn't mean to fall into you like that. They're new shoes, you see. Can I help you get up?" She asked, still holding his arm.

"Yes." He managed to croak out, and watched her as she gathered herself up, balancing herself on her shoes, though she looked unsure about that, and proceeded to lift him up onto his feet.

"My name is Christine Daae." She said, smiling at him.

_Damn it, I should have said thank you_. Nadir's words rung in his head. _In any situation, friendly is good_.

"I am Erik." He replied simply, and cursed as he realized that he should have had a last name to give her, and offered her his professional name. "…Destler."

She accepted it nonetheless, and was still holding onto his arm, as though she belonged there. He couldn't help but stare at her. She was beautiful, truly a work of art. A perfectly sculpted face, a graceful neck and a delicate body stood close to him, watching him. She was dressed exquisitely. The dress was modest, sleeveless, and had a tight cotton bodice, which fell down around her ankles. Underneath, there were layers of lace, making her dress puff out more, and beneath the lace, he could see where her strappy shoes looked a little loose.

"You'll trip in those." He mumbled, staring at her feet. He cringed at his own words. How awful did he sound? Of course she was going to trip, she already had, and into him! And why was he talking to her? No woman had ever enticed him to interact with her.

She started to laugh. "I already did."

He watched her, still holding onto him, laughing. He wanted to laugh with her, but it was such a strange experience that he chose instead to observe it. She looked at him, smiling, and saw him watching her back, not joining in with her laughter, and she lost the beautiful curve to her lips.

_Damn it, now what? I want that smile back_. He thought, flexing his fingers as he stared down at her hand on his elbow. It was so small and white, but he found it had a firm grip, until she began to move it away and apologize again.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that." She said, tucking some of her hair behind an ear. "I'm just new to the whole scene. I'm not American, though you can probably tell by the accent."

He nodded, not daring to speak in front of her. She looked around, and her curls bounced as she knelt down to pick up her purse. She swept her large ruffled dress to one side, and raised herself up again, brushing some dust from her purse. She was still standing quite close to him, and she made no motion of moving away from him. Was she waiting for another response?

"Yes, you're British, aren't you?" asked Erik, his whole body tense with fear. What was she doing? What was she waiting for?

"Yes, that's right. I was born in Sweden, but my dad brought me over to England when I was young."

_Be friendly_, Erik told himself before answering. "I did wonder if I heard a hint of something else."

She shrugged, her eyes locked on him. "I guess, but that's probably because I grew up learning both Swedish and English and had to converse with my dad in both."

There was a pause, as they stood staring at each other. Neither of them spoke. They just stared, and she slowly began to smile. Erik felt uncomfortable, and he instinctively wanted to reach up and adjust his mask. He could feel his entire body burning, and he wanted her to touch him again. He looked up suddenly, remembering where they were. She looked up as well, and began to wilt in front of the cameras. He stared down at her.

_Poor thing. She's probably never been in front of a camera_. He wondered. He felt very protective of this girl, and watched her head bob about as she looked at all of the cameras and realized they were directed at them. He couldn't explain it, there was something about the girl that had captivated him. She hadn't recognized him, she didn't seem to react when he had said his name. Perhaps she had never heard of him before? Or perhaps in England, they didn't bother showing any reports on him. He stared up at them, and more flashes went off. This wasn't doing the girl any good, and he bent his head down to whisper in her ear, "Let me escort you to your table."

She looked up at him, nodded, and saw his newly offered arm. She blushed, and Erik melted once she curled her hand around his arm. It had been a daring move, but it had paid off. He hadn't actually expected her to take his arm, but it had been something he had always wanted to do, to offer his arm to a woman. This girl was heavenly, he thought as they began to walk down the red carpet. Everyone was watching them, and Christine hid her face, blushing as she stared at their arms. The photographers couldn't believe their eyes, and snapped off more shots than Erik could count, their flashes almost blinding him. He walked with her slowly at first, to ensure that she wasn't hurt, which was evident that she wasn't when she began to smile again, and looked up at him.

"Thank you. You needn't, really. I should be able to find it." She whispered as they began to walk past the other celebrities, who all were watching them, snickering to themselves.

_No_! Erik thought, and tried not to show his alarm. He patted her hand. "That's quite alright; I was on my way in anyhow."

She smiled, and began to ask, "So what do you do? I imagine it can't be something average."

_Why would she think that?_ Erik questioned, and then it dawned on him. _Of course, the mask, why else would she think that? She probably thinks I look insane._

"I mean, you're here for a reason, aren't you? You here to support a friend, or receive an award yourself?"

He shook his head, relieved that she hadn't mentioned anything about the mask, and answered, "I'm here to win, or so my manager tells me."

"That's magnificent!" She exclaimed, beaming up at him. "Do you think you will?"

_It doesn't matter, I'm just thankful I came. I must remember to buy Nadir a gift of some kind._

"I expect that I shall." He paused, watching her as she continued to walk up the stairs that led to the hotel's entrance. She stopped, turning in her place as she looked at him with a confused expression. They were further away from the cameras and the reporters now, and Erik realized that she would have to leave his side within a few seconds.

He asked her softly, "Do you know who you're sitting with?" He wanted to be sure that he knew where to look when they all sat down. He wanted to be able to observe her.

She shook her head. "No, I was with a photo event team and they told me I could give them this invite and they'd give me a seat somewhere. They didn't say where."

She opened her purse and pulled out a white envelope, where Erik could see the invite inside. And on the invite was her name. Christine Daae.

Something rose up in him, something spectacular and filled with hope. He had never felt so terrified in front of a woman, but it was good. He had found himself intrigued by this girl, and she seemed so calm around him. They stared at each other again in silence. She had been smiling, but now looked sad.

"Thank you, you've been so kind, I wasn't expecting it. I hope that we get to sit near each other." She said anxiously.

"I hope that too." Erik answered cordially, but inside, his stomach was twisting with the thought of her sitting close to him. That would be worth the humiliation he felt from their meeting.

She waved, and sadly smiled, before turning to leave him standing a few steps below her. Erik watched her glide away, his back to the cameras, and wished he could have held the hand she had waved to him. He could feel his heart beating fast, and he clutched his chest, rubbing it as he willed himself to calm down. He hoped she would be seated in front of him. His fists clenched at the thought about how the seating arrangements might have meant that they would have given her a seat close to the front, and far away from him. He chuckled to himself, however, pressing his fingertips together in a manic sense of glee, he knew there was a way he could easily have whisked her away to sit at his table. She didn't seem as though she would object too much. He thought of Nadir, and his reaction, but ultimately ignored it. He would be shocked to say the least, but happy, and no doubt gloating would be involved too. Christine, even the girl's name was heavenly. He knew what to do. He glanced at his watch. He knew it would mean wasting a few debts owed to him, but if he moved quickly she would be sitting beside him in a matter of minutes.

* * *

**I'd love to see some reviews, or any comments or questions! Than you so much! 3**


	3. Chapter 3

**_The Wanted - I Found You_**

_She wants me to come over I can tell, her eyes don't lie_  
_She's calling me in the dark_  
_She moves, I swear the room around her lights up like the sky_  
_Confidence like a rock star_

_I wanna put my hands on her hands feel the heat from her skin_  
_Get reckless in the star light_  
_I'm movin to the beat of her heart I was so lost until tonight_

_Tonight_

* * *

Nadir stared into his glass and took a sip, glancing around. The guests were beginning to fill the room, and Nadir glanced down at his phone. Erik had been gone for nearly fifteen minutes and he was beginning to get worried. He sorely hoped that Erik hadn't gotten into any trouble with any of the paparazzi. It was likely after all, Erik _was_ a dangerous man. Thankfully though, Erik also possessed the capability to blackmail people into doing whatever he wanted through debts, which meant that he could keep himself out of the media, and away from people, which was what he claimed to want. It was obvious that it hurt him too however, because deep down, he _did_ want to be around people. A long time ago, he had mentioned the desire to have a wife and child when he was, well, there was no polite way to say it, but under the influences of drugs seemed too light when considering Erik. Nadir had been shocked then, but now he could understand. Erik, deep down, despite the fear of hating the cameras and his bizarre interaction with the rest of humanity, just wanted to be loved. And that was what Nadir truly feared. Erik at his best and at his worst could go to such great extremes.

But then again, many people couldn't stand to be around him. He was a disturbing thing to behold. Even now, many of the tables had been pushed further away than theirs, and it was at the suggestion of the organization running the awards ceremony tonight, even though Nadir had only gone to them to ask for a table near the back. They had also suggested that they bring the award to their table, but he had turned it down, as in the limousine, Erik had surprisingly produced two blank cards. When pressed, Erik announced that _if_ he won then he would receive it on the stage, and just thank Nadir for supporting him. This had produced a series of questions which led to the declaration that what Erik really wanted was a good photo of himself on the stage. Nadir hadn't known how to respond. Erik hated his own image, who he very was, to the point of not owning mirrors, which explained the reason why his apartment was so messy, including his piano. The desire to photograph _himself_ before was a new one. And Erik told him why.

"It is to join the crypt I have, as a portrait."

Nadir remembered where this conversation was going. This was suicide talk they were entering here, something that didn't need to be discussed on the way to an awards event. Erik often contemplated death, and had already bought a coffin, something Nadir had refused to let Erik keep in his apartment. It was depressing for his friend to think of death. Nadir wanted him to see there was more to the world than his upbringing had shown.

"Is that was this is about? Erik, believe me, you are not dying soon because I'm not letting you. You remember the last time I put you on suicide watch."

It had been terrible, but Erik responded quickly, distracting Nadir.

"This isn't that. I didn't have time to write down my speech, I'm writing it in my head now, these are just props."

And the moment had passed.

Nadir smoothed down his suit now, glancing around and nodding to a few other guests that entered the large ballroom. The whole event was taking place at the Evangeline Hotel, and it was a beautiful hotel that suited the award ceremony's needs perfectly. They had given them both a table close to the bar, which was on a raised stand which separated them from the ballroom floor. There were few large, leafy plants to hide them partially from view, but there was nothing he could do about the cameras in the balconies. He was not looking forward to seeing how Erik would react. Looking around now, Nadir could see that no one seemed distressed, so there was a reasonable chance that Erik hadn't gotten into trouble just yet.

But where was he? What was taking him so long?

Nadir supposed that he should have gone out to check on Erik, just to see if he hadn't turned and fled, but there was suddenly no need, as Erik was striding towards him with speed and determination. He stopped at the table, and looked around, into the crowd of celebrities and producers all sitting at their tables, observing the room. He seemed to be looking for something. Or someone. As if that was possible.

"You got us the table at the back." He observed calmly.

"Yes, I thought you might appreciate that. The management was very considerate when I brought my request to them." Nadir said, leaning back in his seat. It soothed his back a little.

"Good. I shall have to thank them again then." Erik said, still processing the room. His mask was aimed away from Nadir, towards the other side of the room. He was watching something. Nadir didn't understand why though, Erik could have easily looked at the room for one second and know exactly what he was looking for. It was an uncanny gift, along with many others he possessed.

Nadir raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

Erik nodded, walking around the table to sit beside him, evidently done with his task. He proceeded to stare at Nadir, and sighed. Nadir was shocked to find it was a happy sigh. Just what was on Erik's mind?

"Let me guess, you've blackmailed them into doing something for you? Is it something to do with your masterpiece?"

Erik laughed, joyfully, and shook his head. "No, not at all."

Erik's ecstasy was slowly spreading to Nadir, and in mutual delight, he laughed, "Then tell me. Oh, you're being so _secretive_ again. You'd better tell me because I'll find out anyway; you know that I have that power."

Erik turned his head to look away. "I met someone." Erik commented softly.

Nadir had been about to pick up his drink and take a sip but he would have choked on those words. He watched Erik's mask for any indication of motion, but found that Erik seemed extremely nervous, and groaned to himself in realization. "And now what, do I have to speak to someone's lawyer?"

"Nadir, what little faith you have in me!" Erik teased, his voice taking on a light, slightly sinister tone. "I was perfectly civil. I ended up listening to your advice. We had a pleasant conversation, I believe."

"Well that must be a first, am I right?" Nadir laughed, and glanced over to his friend. But Erik clearly wasn't amused, as Erik was now giving him the silent treatment. "Ah, come now, Erik. You can't take a joke. And you can't pretend that I'm surprised. But do tell me about them. Was it a journalist? I'd laugh if _that_ was true!"

"She is not a reporter. Her name is Christine and she-"

"_She_?"

Erik sighed and hissed out from between gritted teeth, "Yes, she is a woman. Her name is Christine. She's British. She was invited here tonight and she'll be joining us in a few minutes."

"Joining us? Are you serious?" Nadir asked, amazed.

Nadir took a closer look at Erik. He seemed agitated, but he appeared to be trying to hide his discomfort. He looked around, inspecting everything, and every few moments Erik would attempt to straighten the tablecloth, or adjust his outfit. He kept trying to clean his mask as well, running his gloved fingers across the cheeks or the forehead, but the leather gloves only made smudges.

"Yes, I am. And you will be courteous and let me do the talking." Erik muttered darkly, trying to use his sleeve to clean his mask.

"But you hate women." Nadir told him, though it was mostly to himself. "You hate all _humans_. What makes this person so different?"

"I keep you around, don't I?"

"Stop evading the point. Who is she?"

Erik paused as he stopped to adjust his tie. "We hadn't discussed that. We just talked about the awards, and that she was born in Sweden, but raised in England by her father. And her shoe."

"Her shoe?"

"Yes, she told me they were new, which tells me that she bought them for this occasion, which means she is not a socialite by my reckoning. Which would explain why she fell on me because I also suspect that she hasn't worn high heels in a long time." Erik explained, going back to cleaning his mask.

"She fell on you?" This was getting more unbelievable by the minute. Erik was inviting a woman, to their table, after she fell on him. "Was she alone?"

Erik seemed to think. "No-one stopped us. She didn't say anything about accompanying anyone. She did say she was given her ticket, and that she didn't know when she would be sitting."

Nadir sighed, and leaned forward, pulling out a handkerchief. Erik froze as his hand came closer, and Nadir slowly handed him the cloth, smiling. He had never seen Erik so restless and disturbed. This woman must have been _something_ for Erik to act in such a way. He gave little thought to Erik as he began to wipe his mask, and pondered more on the girl that was to be arriving soon. Women had previously been such a curse to Erik. Most were indifferent to him, or just wary, but Erik saw every woman as a force to be reckoned with, as something that tortured him instead of comforted him. Perhaps this woman was just what Erik needed. A bit of female company, with hopefully some sense in her to show him how women really were. The kind, warm, gentle souls that they were, and the strong, independent, vibrant warriors they are. But the real question was whether or not she was coming willingly, or was the management so scared of Erik that they'd rearrange the seating pattern once more just to appease Erik? His last few words had inspired hope in Nadir, but knowing Erik, the situation had probably been taken too far out of hand.

"Are you _sure _about her?" Nadir asked.

"Yes. She wouldn't stop smiling at me."

"Smiling at you? That is a good sign." Nadir admitted, nodding. "Are you sure she wasn't just trying to get in front of the cameras? What was she doing?"

Erik sharply turned to head to meet Nadir's face and laughed darkly. "No, I'm fairly certain it was because of her own clumsiness."

Nadir nodded, grinning cheekily. "Okay, so we know that she's not a regular catwalker. Could she be a reporter?"

"No, she was dressed too nicely to ever even resemble those vermin." Erik grumbled, handing back the handkerchief.

"Ah, I see. So this happened on _mere_ coincidence?" Nadir continued.

"Yes, I think _she_ was more stunned than_ I_ was that it happened. It definitely wasn't something she was expecting."

"And did you ask _her _to join us?"

Erik stayed silent, and sat up straighter, fiddling with the tablecloth. "No, I did not."

"Does she even know you're planning all of this?"

"No. I needed some time to sort some things out and-"

"And that has something to do with the management?"

"Would you stop with your infernal questioning!" Erik argued, keeping his tone down. He was leaning forward, staring at Nadir, and the mask's face glowed eerily in the spotlights. "I planned to use the management's debt to me to ensure her seating arrangement, but they wouldn't relent until I offered them a bribe."

"A bribe, Erik? To get a girl to sit with you? You must be awfully desperate to see this girl. Can't you wait until later?"

Erik sighed, and leaning back into his seat. "Wait until you see her, you'll see why she has to sit with me."

Nadir shook his head. "Erik, have you considered the fact that she might not be as interested as you believe. Are you prepared if she does not join us?"

Erik looked up, and glanced around the room, his eyes finally settling on something. "She will, I know she will."

Nadir followed his line of sight, but couldn't find whoever he was looking at. "Point her out to me, I'm deadly curious now."

"There's no point, they're bringing her now." Erik replied, gesturing to the waiter on the other side of the room.

Nadir watched as a member of staff addressed someone sitting down. He had to crane his neck in order to see a short, blond, young woman stand up. She appeared to be addressing the other people at her table, her beautiful white glittery gown wrapped around her figure as she picked up her purse and dutifully followed the waiter. He had to admit, Erik was right. And she was beautiful, certainly a striking woman. He could see now why Erik was so affected by her. Nadir turned to speak to Erik, but found him shaking nervously.

"My god Erik, _control_ _yourself_." Nadir whispered harshly, leaning in.

"I can't." growled Erik. "I'm too…"

But he never managed to finish his sentence, as the young lady appeared before their table, smiling broadly at Erik, with no regard for Nadir. Nadir couldn't believe his eyes on the creature that stood opposite them. Her light blue eyes were fixed on Erik's mask, and she had a large mass of small blonde ringlets that fell past her shoulders. She had a slender body, and the dress she wore showed off her curves wonderfully, though Nadir was ashamed to admit it. She was grinning quite happily, clutching her purse. The waiter left to get her a glass of water, but she had thanked him while staring at Erik. Christine smiled sweetly, and said two words.

"Hello again." She said, addressing Erik in a soft British accent. It appeared as though she hadn't fully registered Nadir's presence, and she stood, waiting for Erik's response. It pleased Nadir to see someone so smitten with Erik, though Nadir was wary. This had all happened before, with none too pleasant results. He glanced over to look at Erik, to find him already standing up.

"Hello again, Christine." Erik whispered, remaining perfectly still. He had stopped trembling now.

Nadir blew a long breath as he stood up also, dazed by the whole affair.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Erik has been telling me all about you." Nadir teased, an amused smile on his face as he stole a look at Erik.

She looked at him in surprise, her mouth slightly open. "Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't been formally introduced, I'm Christine Daae." She said, offering her hand as she leaned over the table.

Erik was staring at them both, clenching his fists and Nadir would have laughed had it not been for the fear of Erik getting an aneurysm, so he allowed Erik to introduce him by giving him a single nod.

"This is Nadir Kahn." Erik offered, holding his hand out in Nadir's direction, as if she wouldn't know that Erik meant him.

"Are you two friends, or colleagues?" Christine asked as they shook hands. The waiter promptly returned with a tall glass of water. She took it from him directly and thanked him.

"Please, won't you sit?" Erik offered.

"Oh, thank you." And she did so, placing the drink down on a napkin on the table with her purse and pulled out the chair sitting opposite the both of them to seat herself.

"Both, I mean, we are friends and colleagues. I am his manager. Has Erik told you what he does?" Nadir asked as they all sat down, getting comfortable.

Christine began to smooth out her dress. "Not really. All he's said is that he's here to receive an award, but isn't it all a bit of a surprise until they announce it?"

Nadir could see that Erik was closely watching her dress as it fell against his leg; particular the lace ruffles underneath as she sat facing him. She had crossed her legs, and her hanging foot had drawn Erik's attention, as he could see her toes poking out amongst the ruffles. Nadir would have rolled his eyes, but the whole scenario was both highly entertaining and out of sorts. It would appear that until Erik regained his senses, he would end up doing the talking anyway.

"Well yes, that is true, but Erik very rarely loses an award. Only if he does it on purpose."

"And why would you do that?" She asked Erik, stopping to look at him.

Erik looked up, clearly not expecting her to ask him anything about himself. "Because I object to giving awards away to simpletons who use computers to sing. They're not worthy musicians and I see no point in wasting my time hanging around idiots who don't know music."

Nadir quickly checked Christine's response, to see if she would be offended, but she showed no sign of emotion. Nadir had been relieved, he hadn't been sure how Christine would receive his insult.

"So how you do you decide which is worthy and which is not?" She asked.

"It is a matter of which makes him more money." Nadir supplied.

"Oh." She answered flatly, a little put off.

There was a strange pause, until Erik came out with, "Are you here to support a friend, or receive an award yourself?"

"Oh neither," Christine responded eagerly. "I'm only here because I was given it as a gift from a TV show presenter. They flew me over for the week, I landed today."

"And where do you come from, Erik tells me Sweden originally, but then England?" Nadir asked. This was only getting more interesting.

"Yes, I was living in Sweden until I was four, and then my father moved me to London to find work. He died just before I turned 18. I've been living on my own ever since. "

"So why were you on the TV? Was it a game show?"

"No, a talk show. I was a guest on the Chris Wright show to talk about my video as it just hit a million views, and he sort of gave it to me as a 'congratulations' present."

Erik leaned forward. "Video?"

"Yes, I sang a song and filmed it and put it on my channel. I'm a vlogger."

Erik sat back in his seat, watching her. Christine seemed puzzled by his reaction, but continued.

"It wasn't even good, it was awful, I haven't sung in so long. I mean, it was a bit funny, but mostly sad."

There came another lull in conversation, and Nadir wondered if Erik was up to the challenge of entertaining someone other than themselves. Especially when she had announced she was a vlogger. Erik was aware of the concept. It meant that she videoed herself on a frequent basis to be put on the internet for people to watch how she lived her life. That was unfortunate news for Erik. But Erik leaned forward again.

"You sing?" He asked, clasping his hands together as he rested his scrawny elbows on his kneecaps. Clearly he had decided to ignore that fact to skip straight onto her singing.

Christine looked down into her lap. "I used to. I'm afraid I don't sound as good as I used to be in the video. I stopped after my father died. He used to teach me, and I just couldn't go on after his passing."

Christine looked at Erik directly; her eyes fixated on his, and asked, "What about you, do you sing?"

Nadir was beginning to see exactly why Erik was infatuated already with her. Her attention was solely on Erik, and he must have been loving it. She really did appear to just want to talk to him. Erik however still seemed wary, as though he was interviewing her instead of having an actual conversation with her.

"I do, though that is not why I am here tonight. Tonight I'm here to receive the award for 'Classical Album of the Year'."

"That's wonderful."

Erik watched her, and nodded. Nadir imagined he was smiling. "Yes, it is."

"So then, why are we sitting over here?"

Ah, the key question. And how was Erik going to respond, Nadir wondered.

"It is to give us some _privacy_." He answered, leaning back further into his chair, not liking where this conversation was going.

Christine seemed confused. "But there are cameras everywhere and we're sitting by the bar, how do you see that as private?"

_Oh ho! She has a point!_ Nadir laughed in his head, but both Erik and he knew that there had been an arrangement.

"The waiters know not to come down this end of the bar, and to come only when we wave them over. The cameras can show us but they cannot approach us."

Christine froze. "Did you tell them to do that?"

"Yes, I require privacy at all times. Nadir had it arranged it for tonight. It is only by Nadir's persistent nattering, insisting that I come that I'm even here at all."

Christine looked stunned. "You mean to say you win awards and you don't even bother coming?"

"No."

"But why? It's recognition of all of your hard work!" She protested fervently.

Nadir laughed. "I wouldn't call it hard." Which was true.

"What do you mean? She asked, turning her attention to Nadir.

"Erik spews out music like some spew out gossip." Nadir said solemnly. "People can be unfortunately mean and stupid when it comes to recognizing someone with more talent than themselves. Especially when they have a camera."

Christine gave a shy smile to Erik as she bowed her head to look at Erik's stooped mask. "I used to get bullied too. People said horrible things about my videos. So I talked with them and we cleared the air, and there were no more hurt feelings. There _are_ those who are just plain idiots, but the point I'm trying to make is that there's nothing you can do to stop people talking about you. It will only change when they start talking _to_ you."

Erik looked up at her. She smiled again, brighter now.

"But you know what? I think this is a great place to sit. I think we have a great view of the events as well. I was sitting all the way over there, behind me, up against the wall over there. I couldn't see anything really, nothing that I couldn't catch later on tv, but now I get to sit with _you_."

Even Erik managed to grasp the tone in her voice. He sat up. "_Me_?"

"Yeah. Isn't it great?"

"Erik asked them to move you on his behalf." Nadir confessed, grinning with delight as he knew how that would affect Erik. And was right, as Erik suddenly stared at Christine, who was too busy grinning at Nadir to notice. But Erik sharply turned his head to look at him. Christine interrupted him as he was about to say something.

"I guess you like your privacy, huh?"

Erik looked up, and Nadir could see it was done quite sheepishly. "I do."

"Well that explains why the waiter was so scared; he probably thought he'd get into trouble if he didn't bring me over!"

Erik had tensed up at the word 'scared'. "I'm sorry, if you would prefer to be back over there…"

Christine shook her head again and grinned. "No way, those guys were boring. They weren't as interesting as I had hoped. I was hoping that _we_ would meet again so we could talk, you seem like an interesting person."

Nadir sat in silence, stunned by the girl's admission as she reached forward to take a sip of her water. He looked over at Erik, who was staring at her with what Nadir could only imagine to be shock. Christine stopped drinking, and sensed Erik's shock, frowning as she pursed her lips.

Oh yes, this was going to get very interesting. Nadir was beginning to like this girl. His only concern now was how much Erik liked her. By the actions of Erik, Nadir judged him to be highly besotted with her.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been wonderful, and thanks for the tip, I sorely needed it it seems! :D**

**I'd love to see some reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Weezer's Falling for You_**

_Holy cow! I think I've got one here  
Now just what am I s'posed to do?  
I've got a number of irrational fears  
That I'd like to share with you  
First, there's rules about old goats like me  
Hangin' 'round with chicks like you (but i do like you)  
And another one: you say "like" too much_

_But I'm shakin' at your touch_  
_I like you way too much_  
_My baby I'm afraid I'm falling for you_  
_I'd do 'bout anything to get the hell out alive_  
_or maybe I would rather settle down with you_

* * *

Christine had been so scared, that even just sitting in the limousine that was driving her to the event had seemed like a cage. It should be been filled with people laughing and having fun, and it seemed odd that she had been alone, but looking back, she felt she would have preferred it that way. She had been nervous enough as it was, and she didn't think she could have handled the pressure of being socially acceptable in someone else's presence as well. She was being thrust in front of what could have been hundreds of people, and every single one of them would be taking photos and filming the event. It was probably for the best that she had had those last few minutes to herself so she could compose herself.

Christine fiddled with her shoes. She rarely, if ever, wore high heels, so it was nerve-wracking to think that she'd have to walk around in uncomfortable shoes for a few hours. She should have practiced wearing high heels before coming to the event, she regretted, and possibly breaking in the new shoes would have helped too, which didn't help her self-esteem. She felt confident only in the fact that she mattered to her viewers. She thought about how excited they had been to hear that she was coming to America. Some of her American viewers had left comments saying they would be in the crowd. She had been excited as well, but she was concerned that she would not be able to see them once she was standing in front of hundreds of flashing lights. She wasn't even sure if she was allowed to greet her followers or whether she would be asked to walk straight in.

She grabbed a water bottle from the bucket before her, and took a few gulps, before staring out of the window. She was always thirsty when nervous, but soon, the bright lights and the passing people made her feel better. Maybe her earlier melancholy was caused by her thinking about her father back in her hotel room.

_Come on Christine, he'd be so proud of you. He'd be cheering you on. And look at you! You're in New York, going to an awards show! You have a whole week to hang out here and do whatever you like_! Her mind argued, and she agreed with it happily, still trying to decide where to head to the following day. She wanted to visit the Statue of Liberty, as it would make a good opening for her next video, and then Central Park and Times Square. Then she could finish the whole day off with a musical and still have 5 days left to enjoy herself. She had a long list of things that she wanted to do, such as drive in a yellow taxi cab, eat at a local pizzeria, and a whole bunch of other things to do with American culture.

It was such a wonderful break after all, being all dressed up and she felt like a diva. Her hair was perfect; the dress looked so good on her and her make-up showed off her eyes just how she liked. It was so nice to just pamper herself, and she laughed in her head, smoothing out her dress lovingly, feeling remarkably _girly_, and she was so happy that she had reached such a good turning point in her life. She was positively beaming with pride, until she remembered that while she might have had 6 days left, it was going to end up with her going back to London and back to her part time job as a waitress in a small cafe near the London Eye while spending her days making videos. It was just so boring being a waitress, the same thing day in and day out, serving people that she never saw again. Making videos had become her life after her father had died. She had needed to vent, and it had occurred to her that she could have just kept a diary, but she had gone one step further, and started to make videos, recording her life and putting it out on display on the Internet. It was just so rewarding to express herself, and then have people talk back to her. She lived in a flat, close to her work, where she had preserved all of her father's things in her wardrobe, still mourning his absence. She had never been able to make many friends in person, but her subscribers were more than enough to keep her occupied.

She tried to stay optimistic by practicing her best smile again, until she saw the large red and gold banner that announced her arrival to the hotel where the awards were taking place.

**25th Court One Music Awards 2013**

Christine could feel the excitement build up inside of her as the limo came to a stop. It had finally dawned on her that this was really happening. She was really going to an awards show. She would get to walk down the red carpet, and maybe there would be a writer who'd want to ask her a few questions, or maybe her photo would appear in some newspaper. Maybe this would even get her some more subscribers if she presented herself neatly enough. She didn't want to offend anyone. Suddenly though, she lost her nerve as the passenger seat door opened, and a hand reached inside to help her out. She could hear thousands of people screaming and shouting, and the whole walkway was lit up beautifully, with a hundred light bulbs firing off on top of cameras, and so many people just standing about, chatting. She meekly placed her hand on top of theirs, and was relieved to see a man smiling down at her as she got out.

"You are Miss Christine Daae?" He asked, and Christine nodded.

"Yes." She replied, pulling out the rest of her dress.

He directed her to follow him as he began to explain what she would be doing. It was expected that she would have a few promo photos taken of her, trying to promote Chris Wright's show, and then walk down the red carpet. Christine was about to ask if she was going to be interviewed, but from the way he directed her over to a board with logos all over it with only one photographer, she supposed not.

"I'm sorry, but what exactly-"

"Just stand there and look pretty." Was all the man offered, along with a shrug. "My team will look after you, but you'll need to be on the red carpet in about 4 minutes. Think you can manage it?"

Christine nodded, her eagerness building up as he told her to face the cameras and smile. The photographer, who stood too close for her own comfort with a disgusting aftershave, kept nudging her into different positions. She wanted to scowl at him and warn him off, but she kept calm as she did as she was told. But soon the photo team descended on her, puffing out her already puffed out dress, moving some of her hair behind her ears, and showed her where the red carpet began. There was a security guard standing right beside a large potted fern, and there were some people hanging out behind it, but apart from that, she had no clue what was waiting for her.

A woman placed her hand on Christine's shoulder, and said in an American accent she couldn't place, "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

Christine smiled, appreciative of the woman's concern. "Thanks, but I'll be okay I think. It's just nerves, that's all."

The woman smiled, rubbing her arm. "You look amazing, so now all you need is to walk out there and show them what you've got. Don't go too fast, keep your eyes on the photographer's faces to see where you need to direct yourself. If someone waves you over, they want to ask you questions. And work the Chris Wright Show into an answer. Then you go in, hand them your invite, you'll be directed to your seat, and when the show is over, the limo will take you back to your hotel."

"Cheers." Christine thanked, grinning enthusiastically.

"Go on then, sweetheart. You can do it." The woman reassured, and Christine thanked her once more before heading over the red carpet. "Oh wait, don't forget about your invite."

Christine spun around, and took the white envelope from the woman, sliding it into her purse. "Thank you. Do you know where I'll be sitting?"

"Not sure, they'll probably just use you to fill in an empty seat. But at least you'll be part of the audience, eh?"

Christine gave a smile, and carried on walking over to the red carpet. The security guards gave her a passing glance before nodding their approval for her to step through. She thanked them, and gave herself a moment, staring down the long red carpet that quite a few celebrities were already on. Mostly singers and producers, some she recognized, some she didn't, and she could feel her heart skip a beat as she felt her feet pull her forward unnaturally. She looked over to the left, where the cameramen taking photos gave her a quick once over, and after shooting one or two photos lazily, they went back to watching the real celebrities like vultures.

_Wow, not as dramatic as I thought it would be. _Christine thought, staring down at her dress_. Ah well, what were you really expecting? You're not exactly Beyoncé._

She carried on walking, watching the cameramen, fascinated by the other celebrities. She wanted to shield her eyes from all of the bright lights that beamed down on her. She squinted her eyes, trying to see if she could find a follower of hers, though she probably wouldn't have recognized them. It was hard to see anyone though, through the randomly blinking lights. Everything just seemed a blur, and it made her head spin. It was the flashes from the cameras that threw her off, as the most embarrassing thing that _could_ have happened, happened to _her_. Her shoe must have caught on the carpet awkwardly, blinded momentarily by the glaring lights, and she gave a small gasp as she realized she was stumbling forward. Time seemed to slow down, as she remembered thinking, 'W_ell that's just great. I'll be in the newspaper for sure now'._

But someone had caught her, and was cradling her in their arms as she continued to trip. It was a stiff embrace because the person she didn't know was suddenly touching her so intimately and seemed just as dazed as her. She couldn't slow herself down, and as the person grabbed her wrists in an ill attempt at holding her up, she crashed into their stomach and sent them stumbling down with her.

Christine groaned, her cheeks growing red as she realized she might have just embarrassed not only herself, but some high ranking celebrity. She vaguely remembered hoping it was someone she didn't know just so that it would be less embarrassing when she started to apologize. Now they were lying on the floor, the wind knocked out of her, and she groaned again as the person held her wrists carefully and squeezed them. Other than that, they were lying perfectly still, and worse yet, she was lying on top of them. She lifted her head, moaning as the urge to press her hand to her forehead rose, and she was already in the middle of apologizing when she finally caught on to what it was exactly she was staring at.

It was a statue she was looking at. She was puzzled for a few seconds, wondering for a moment what was going on. She could hear heavy breathing though, and the hands that were holding her had squeezed her wrists only seconds ago. So it wasn't a statue, it actually was a person.

_Well duh, That makes far more sense_, she thought. _And it is much more preferable to stumble into, instead of a statue. But still embarrassing._

The statue head looked familiar at least. She wondered where she had seen it before, when it came to her. It was reminiscent of Venetian statues. It was oddly beautiful to look at. It had beautifully carved curls, and a strange expression on its face, that seemed to be almost calm, but intensely so. The eyes had been formed in a way that that two empty pits served as pupil's, and the lips were so full and lifelike. It wasn't just a simple, cheap mask either. A lot of love and care had gone into it, she guessed. It must have been made out of clear white marble by the look of it. What truly amazed her was the fact that it covered his entire head. There was no skin visible, apart from his neck.

"I didn't mean to do it, I didn't even see you. I'm not used to walking in heels." She finished, her eyes locked onto the mask's pupils. It was spectacular image, and she could feel her heart beat rise again as she continued with her apology.

But he wasn't responding. He was just staring at her. Or maybe he wasn't even staring at her. He could have been doing anything under the mask, but he still didn't move. Was he okay? She was going to ask him, but he looked down at their hands, his long, thin fingers wrapped around her wrists, and he sharply pulled them away, as though disgusted by her touch. It hurt her, but Christine tried not to let it affect her as she grabbed his shoulder. He still hadn't said anything. Maybe he couldn't hear her through the mask.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry! Hello?" She asked, slightly alarmed.

"No, I..."

Christine's whole body shivered. Just two syllables and already she wanted to curl up on the couch with him under a blanket. He must have been a singer, she decided, his voice was so classically pleasing. She sat up, still watching him, unaware of the multitude of cameras that had now focused themselves on them both. She could see him properly now, and he was by far the most interesting person she had met since landing that morning. The mask he wore was intriguing, and she wanted to ask him about it, but she wondered if it was an artistic statement, like some celebrities were wont to do. Maybe it symbolized how humans saw beauty. She was kneeling beside him now, more curious about the mask and its purpose, and brushed some hair away from her face so she could see him better. He seemed to be watching her also, his head following her hands, and she smiled at him, feeling surprisingly good about herself. But cringed as she realized what she must have looked like to him.

_Oh god, I'm just sitting here smiling at him. He must think me an idiot!_

She was about to offer to help him up, when she noticed the lights bouncing off of his mask, suggesting to her that maybe it was more likely to be plastic instead of marble, and that the cameras were on them. She looked up at them, but couldn't see anything, apart from hundreds of flashing lights. No doubt they were all loving the chaos, and she turned back around, reaching forward to wrap her hand around the man's bicep. She tried to help him sit up, but he refused to move.

"I'm fine." He told her.

She wanted to melt in his arms; he had such a charismatic voice, but his tone strictly told her that he wasn't amused. She bowed her head with shame, and admitted, "I'm sorry. I _honestly_ didn't mean to fall into you like that. They're new shoes, you see. Can I help you get up?"

"Yes." He answered solemnly.

She sensed that he was upset, but whether it was directed towards her or not, she wasn't sure. It was easy to assume that it was. He must have been so angry with her. She helped him stand up, and she held onto his arm, making sure he was steady. The mask must not have made it very easy to see. He did not ask her to move her hand, or even recognize that it was there, but he still continued to watch her, not saying very much. Christine wished she could have gotten to know this man. He was _very_ intriguing. He was wearing a statue's head for a mask after all, and by now, most people would have shouted at her and stormed off, but he seemed just as hypnotized as her. She wanted to know his name.

"My name is Christine Daae." She prompted.

"I am Erik … Destler."

He then proceeded to admire her dress, which she decided to take as a compliment, despite the fact that he had shrunk from her previously like she was diseased or something. She continued to smile at him however when he checked out her shoes.

"You'll trip in those." He mumbled flatly.

Christine wanted to punch him in the arm. Was he making fun of her, or just making a joke? She looked at him, staring down at her feet. "I already _did_." She laughed.

He looked up, observing her, and just stood still. Christine had been smiling, but something told her that Erik was not. He looked down onto his arm where her hand was, and Christine cringed with embarrassment once more. She began to pull it away and saw that he was following her arm with interest.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that." She said, tucking some of her hair behind an ear, trying so hard not to blush. "I'm just new to the whole scene. I'm not American, though you can probably tell by the accent."

He nodded, and she remembered her purse as he did so. She looked around on the floor and saw it, kneeling down to pick it up, and began to question just what she should say to him next. Maybe he was just going to continue going along the red carpet. He was probably already gone, she reasoned, straightening herself back up. But he was still there.

"Yes, you're British, aren't you?" asked Erik.

"Yes, that's right. I was born in Sweden, but my dad brought me over to England when I was young." Christine answered, pleased that he had stayed by her side.

"I did wonder if I heard a hint of something else."

And from there, the whole evening had been resplendent. Soon after their short conversation, they had both realized that the cameramen and reporters was drinking this moment in, taking photos of everything, and she had cringed inwardly.

_Oh God, they got me falling on him, lying on him, and then grinning at him as I watched him lie on the floor after I put him there!_ She wanted to look up at him and see _his_ reaction, but the mask wouldn't have told her anything. She wished she could see his face, but it was obviously something to do with his work. God knew that she had to dress up for some of her videos, too. She tilted her head. Or maybe it really _was_ just a fashion statement that she didn't quite get.

"Let me escort you to your table." He had offered, and after giving a nod, she saw that he had also offered his arm.

She could hardly even believe it. He was acting so gentlemanly. She was certain now that she was blushing in front of him. She took it, carefully at first, in case he had hurt himself when she fell on top of him, and together they walked down the red carpet.

It was a dream, to her. A man on her arm, a beautiful dress, and apart from the embarrassment of collapsing on a stranger, it was a beautiful night. He held onto her, and they chatted comfortably for two strangers. They talked about the reasons they were here, but somehow Christine had completely forgotten to tell him her story, as she had been far too interested in him. After a few minutes, when they had begun to ascend the stairs that led into the hotel, she had found that he had stopped behind her, but was still holding onto her. Christine had paused, in confusion. He was so quirky, she thought. He had despised her touch, and now he didn't want to let go of her. He asked her where she was sitting, and her whole body buzzed with excitement, despite the sorrow she had felt with thinking that she would have to leave his side. Maybe he was sad too. They both mutually wished to be close to each other, it seemed to Christine, once she had voiced her concern. She waved at him as she began to walk away, and was overwhelmed with a sense of despair as she was finally escorted to her seat.

She greeted the other people sitting with her, and attempted some light small talk, but they hadn't been as interesting as Erik. They were just some business people who had no real curiosity in her. They were here to support some others artists that had shown up, and Christine looked around the room, hoping that she would recognize who they were talking about, but she didn't.

_I wonder where Erik's sitting_. She looked around. She couldn't see him anywhere. _You'd think he'd be so easy to spot._

Now that she had had a moment to herself, she began to think about his name. Erik Destler. She had to admit, the name did not sound familiar. But he must have been important, why else would he have been wearing a mask? Surely it wouldn't be normally allowed at an awards ceremony? And he had been on his own. So what did that mean? He hadn't even mentioned what award he would be accepting.

After a few more minutes of looking around, she finally spied him walking into the room and felt a flood of relief sweep through her. He moved with such a deliberate force, she couldn't help but admire him. He did have a thin, tall frame, but she knew that underneath the suit, he was firm and strong. It suited him, she insisted, watching him carry on over to the other side of the room. The white mask seemed to almost glow in the lights, and she could see the mass of curls that adorned the mask. He was approaching a table way over in the corner, closer towards the back. He had to climb a few steps up to the bar area and went into the furthest corner of the ballroom. She kept a close eye on him, facing away from him so he wouldn't catch her looking at him, because he too was scanning the room, looking for something. She wanted it to be her he was looking for, but it was far more likely that he was just seeing who was here. She continued to watch him, as he sat down with a Middle Eastern man, though she couldn't see him too clearly.

She fiddled with the knife and fork on her table, and tried not to listen in on the other guests' conversations, but she was so bored and she had nothing to do. She was about to slyly try and sneak out her camera so she could grab some footage of the event, but to her confusion, a waiter appeared.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Christine Daae?" He asked quite fearfully.

"Yes, is everything okay?" She asked, alarmed.

"If you would just like to follow me, we're placing you in another seat that might be more suited for you."

Christine couldn't believe it. "Is there something wrong with where I'm sitting?"

"No, we just have another seat available that you may get a better view from."

She looked around. She was up against the wall, and could see the stage clearly before her and to her right. What was he on about?

"Where are you placing me?" She asked, curious.

"With Erik Destler. He asked for your seat to be moved over to his table." He confessed, breaking out of his work persona to personally confide in her. "They didn't want me to tell you, they thought you might object."

"No... _No_, just give me a second."

Christine smiled, holding herself back from making any excited noises. She could feel the look of the other guests on the back of her head and she stood up triumphantly. She grabbed her things quickly, and turned to the face the people she had been sitting with. They looked speechless.

"Goodbye. Thank you for your company." And Christine turned towards the waiter, indicating her readiness to go. He immediately walked off, walking around all of the tables and she quickly followed behind him. She tried to compose herself mentally as she thought about how quickly her evening had changed.

She soon approached the table, and Erik had stood to greet her, something that pleased her greatly. Her breath had been taken away, as she took a moment to admire the mask once more. It was so strange, speaking to someone, but never seeing their lips move or their eyes blink. It was kind of interesting though. She just wanted to sit and stare at him. She had been introduced to his manager, Nadir Kahn, and they soon sat down to wait for the pre-show dinner. Christine, too eager for her own good did most of the talking, though she could tell that Erik wasn't too into the idea of talking about himself. That was fine, in Christine's opinion, but she _did_ want to hear more about him. They did end up talking about Erik at first, mostly about his awards, and how he didn't even pick them up, except for tonight which struck her as odd. They talked about her life back in England, though Erik had seemed shocked at a few things she had said which only made her more confused. She had tried to comfort him as the man known as Nadir admitted that Erik did not have a lot of popular press at that moment, or so Christine figured. She tried to cheer him up by telling him that their seat was much better than her previous one, which wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't exactly false either.

Nadir had then announced that Erik had arranged her seating, which only made Christine grin to herself as she stared at Nadir. She expressed her joy with joining the both of them, emphasizing that it was mostly for seeing Erik again, and they both seemed stunned. She didn't want to say that the waiter had told her already, and decided to keep silent as she leaned forward to take a sip of her glass, when the waiter approached once more.

"Would you like to hear the dinner menu now?"

Erik had remained motionless, staring at the waiter, apparently disgruntled by the sudden appearance. The waiter continued,

"Tonight the choices are-"

"Nothing for me." Erik told him darkly, an irritated tone in his voice as he barked at the poor waiter.

Christine bit on the inside of her lip, so Erik wouldn't be able to see her do it. He seemed angry, but she couldn't tell at what. He seemed like a bit of an irritable person, and she wasn't sure how to respond to that. It must have had something to do with the mask. It meant a great deal to him, she could tell now. But she didn't want to eat in front of him if it made him uncomfortable. She turned to face the waiter. "Nothing for me either, thank you."

Nadir swore under his breath. "Blast it, just bring the lady and I some more drinks." Nadir grumbled. "What was I expecting, after all…"

The waiter turned to face Christine again. "Just a sweet martini and lemonade, thank you." She answered, feeling very embarrassed.

The waiter nodded, and Christine turned once more to Erik. He was still sitting quite close to her, faced fully towards her. His head was tilted to one side, his whole attention on her. It was exhilarating, she conceded; not knowing what he was thinking when he looked at her. He didn't seem too opposed to her forwardness, and she almost wished that he was interested in her.

"Are you sure you won't have anything? I'm sure they can get you a straw, or something else maybe? You must be quite hot under there?" She asked, holding onto the waiter's sleeve before he tried to vanish. Surely he could have lifted off the mask, even just a little, to have something to drink. Though looking at the mask, she wondered how it even came off in the first place. There were no cracks to suggest the that mask spilt in half.

"No, that's quite alright." Erik answered weakly.

Christine wondered if she had struck a sore point and frowned, releasing the waiter. He left as quickly as he could manage without running. Christine was only getting more and more confused. She turned to look to Nadir, who only stared back at her, watching her reaction. She looked back at Erik. He was watching her too, but his head was drooping now.

"Are you uncomfortable?" She asked softly, leaning forward. Surely, the mask must have been irritating him, she wondered.

He stood up abruptly, straightening himself out before walking around Christine. "I will be back shortly."

Christine turned in her seat and held onto the back of her chair as she watched him walk away, and turned back to Nadir abruptly.

"Where is he _going_?"

Nadir sighed, throwing down a white handkerchief with annoyance as he had now lost his only form of entertainment. He looked up at Christine, and shrugged. "I suspect he's gone to cool down."

"Cool down? Is everything alright?" She asked, growing more concerned. "Did I upset him? I didn't mean to, he just seemed so on edge and I-"

"No, my dear, he is just incredibly shy. Erik is a strange man at the best of times. Have you never heard about him before?"

Christine shook her head. "No, but I've never been into celebrity gossip or backstage talk. But I look at him and like… I mean, I feel like I should know that name. I feel like I should know _him_."

"He feels much the same way, I suspect." Nadir disclosed quietly.

"The waiter already told me that Erik had asked to move me here. Does he like me?"

"Yes, I think he does."

"And if you don't mind my asking, what is the mask supposed to symbolize?"

"Symbolize?" Nadir asked in bewilderment. "I suspect there may be a reason as to why he chose that mask, but if there is he has chosen to not share that information with me. I feel I should inform you, so as not to alarm you that his actions you have just seen _are_ related to what lies beneath the mask."

"It's not a fashion statement, is it? That's not its real purpose." Christine said slowly, realization dawning on her. "I see what you're hinting at. You're trying to warn me about him."

Nadir had chuckled. "Yes, but this would be for the good of both of you. You will no doubt find yourselves in the newspaper and in gossip circles for the next couple of days, and people will gossip once more about Erik. You see, he never removes his mask in front of company. Not _ever_. And people are curious about what he looks like. You remember I mentioned his talent?"

Christine nodded. "Yes, the cameras." She leaned forward, her arm rested on the table.

"Well, Erik is unfortunate in that while he may be the most talented genius on the planet, he is not the most attractive of men. He was born with a disfigurement that drives away most men and women. He has never gotten on with another person other than myself, so you must imagine my reaction when he told me that you would be joining us."

"So he has to wear a mask?" She asked in disbelief. Nadir nodded. "But that's got to be uncomfortable. How can he stand it?"

"He does what he must. You see Christine; I can see how smitten you are with him-"

Christine blushed, and laughed aloud, embarrassed. "It is pretty obvious I guess. I am, but I'm so wary of him too. He seems a little high strung. I have no idea what he's thinking. I don't even know if it's appropriate to be flirting with a celebrity. It's so unorthodox."

"Yes, well, believe me when I say that he is just as smitten as you. Though he would probably never admit it, and he would probably reject your interest and think you were teasing him. He is what some would call a recluse. "

Well, he did mention how he rarely accepted awards, and he had managed to secure them an unusual seating arrangement, something that she wasn't sure most celebrities could do. Christine didn't know how to feel.

Christine looked around her, realizing the extent of Erik's power. "And that's why we've been placed here. He managed to organize this?"

Nadir shrugged. "Erik can make anything happen. He's an illusionist you know. And an architect. He's a singer and a ventriloquist and an inventor and because of these skills, it has made him a very wealthy man."

"But he must be lonely." She insisted, looking around to try and spy Erik again. "And all because he can't stand people and is afraid of their reaction to his face?"

Christine turned back dismayed. Erik hadn't been in sight. Nadir spoke up again.

"Now I must ask, Christine. Knowing about his birth defect, knowing that he is not a people person, knowing that he is a wealthy man, how do you feel about him?" Nadir asked, a keen eye on Christine's face.

Christine could feel her heart beat rapidly, and fidgeted in her seat. "Well, he seems like a good guy. Not very talkative, but you did say he was shy. I don't get it. Has no one else really tried talking to him?"

"Not to get to know him, no."

"So he's just shy?"

"…Yes."

"And you're okay with the two of us, I mean? Do you think I'm just after him for his money?"

"I don't think you are but I'd be happy even if you were."

"And Erik likes me?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Nadir confirmed, grinning. "You should have seen him before you arrived."

Christine blushed. "What did he say?"

Nadir chuckled, reaching for his glass as the waiter approached once more with their drinks.

"Ah now, you surely can't expect me to betray Erik's trust in those matters, can you?"

Christine allowed the waiter to place her drink down on another napkin, laying it out for her, and shook her head. "I guess you're right. I'd want to hear it from him anyway."

Nadir nodded, choosing to observe her as she looked around. She wondered what he thought of her. Did he think of her as foolish, or just reckless? And there was something that he was not telling her either. Was Erik really the recluse that Nadir claimed? It would explain a few things.

She spun back around, clasping her hands in her lap. "I hope he comes back soon then."

Nadir nodded once more, smiling. Erik did soon return, apologizing to Christine profusely as he came up with some excuse of having to address a guest, but Christine and Nadir smiled to each other secretly as he sat down.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing, I can't wait for more. I'm so overjoyed from all of the reviews. There's plenty more coming.**

**I'd love to see some reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Barlow Girl's I Need You To Love Me_**

_Why, why are you still here with me _  
_Didn't you see what I've done? _  
_In my shame I want to run and hide myself _  
_But it's here I see the truth _  
_I don't deserve you_

* * *

Erik was so ashamed and angry. How could he let himself slip? The moment she had approached their table he had been doomed. His heart had pumped loudly in his ears as she introduced herself to Nadir and sat herself down. She was ethereal, floating in front of his view like a feather in the wind. The whole thing had been wonderful at first, admiring her form as she sat directly in front of them, watching _him_. He knew she would come to him, it had to be fate that she did. There had to be a reason why he was so ugly, and she was so beautiful. It _had_ to be fate that drew them together. Erik could see that Nadir had been awestruck too by the sight of the girl, not expecting Erik to land such an enchanting woman. Erik had been so nervous when she approached, but now that she was here, looking into his eyes and smiling, he knew it had been the right decision.

Every instinct in him just wanted to pull her into his lap and protect her, she was so fragile and naïve, so open and happy that he was jealous of her ease with life. She seemed so unlike the other women he had crossed paths with in his early days, and he could only sit and gawk at her nervously as she proceeded to chatter away happily. Having his mask meant he could observe her however he pleased, but with Christine's eyes constantly on him, he felt ashamed to looked anywhere below her neckline. Not that he wanted to look away from her face. It was breathtaking, full of life, and her eyes were so expressive too. She was facing him, talking to him about his awards, _wanting_ to talk to him. He had been delighted, finally having a captive audience for once, compared to Nadir who often nodded off in the middle of Erik's one sided conversations.

They chatted on, with Nadir watching the both of them like hawks. He seemed just as puzzled as Erik felt, but the topic soon turned to Christine, who had done most of the talking all night, and it had been revealed that Christine was a video blogger by trade. Erik remembered being devastated by that. That meant she spent her life in front of cameras, constantly performing. It seemed apt for her, she must have been a social butterfly, constantly being praised and worshiped. One of her videos had reached a million views, though she did complain about how awful the video had been, and she had been on TV to discuss the song she had composed.

Which had turned Erik's attention to the mention of her singing. She explained that her father had taught her from a young age, which excited Erik as she also mentioned she had once been a good singer, but no longer since her father died, which brought Erik's mood down again. She had then asked him if he sang, to which he confessed he did, though it was not his profession. He could sing with some beauty that he could make even the sternest of people weep openly. He could make people commit suicide or commit murder, but Erik had no plans on telling her that. There were things that he was grateful that did not just reveal itself in polite conversation, that only an interrogator like Nadir could discover. Christine had expressed her joy when he finally told her just why they were there, positively shining at him, until she brought up their seating arrangement. He wasn't too ashamed to admit he liked his privacy, but there was nothing that could convince him to tell her that he had been the one to have her brought over. He wasn't sure what she would make of it. They must had told her some excuse about why her seat was no longer hers, and she must have seen how much of a coincidence it was that her new seat was on Erik's table. She didn't seem as though she knew, she just seemed so surprised and happy to see him.

She had tried to comfort him too, leaning in closer to her, and he almost felt she was in his arms again, closely pressed to him. He could feel the support flowing from her, and he hoped that she would hold his arm again. His skin positively itched with the thought of her touching him. Then she gave Erik such a shock by showing her delight with their seating arrangement after all, despite how private they were and how separated they were from the rest of the crowd.

He sensed she was trying to tell him something, but it couldn't possibly have been true, what she was saying. She couldn't really have been enjoying herself. He knew he had acted terribly in front of her. Throwing her hands away from him, then suddenly sticking to her like glue, then insulting the other guests at the awards ceremony. She must have thought of him terribly, though it didn't show on her face. How she had managed to stick around so long had mystified Erik, but he desperately didn't want it to end. He just wanted to live in the moment and pretend that he could have a normal life. If he had a normal face, then he could have whisked her off her feet and stolen her heart, he knew deep down. She wouldn't accept him if she knew the truth, not only about his face, but about his past as well. She would scream if she knew. She would run away, and Erik would be alone again. Nadir might not even want to stick around after that, Erik thought.

He felt angry. He wanted to court her and all he could do was sit in front of her and watch her slip through his fingers like sand. It wasn't fair. He deserved love too, didn't he? The waiter had turned up again at some point, and Erik, having been too distracted to notice his approach, verbally expressed his anger at the man in a stupid mistake when the waiter had mentioned dinner.

Christine had remained still, looking as uncomfortable as possible, making Erik curse in his head, watching her sit with her hands cradled in her lap, but in a surprise move, she followed Erik's lead and didn't request any food for herself. Erik had stared at her inquisitively, and had grinned to himself. Maybe there was hope. She did not seem so opposed to him speaking with her, with all of her smiling and laughing. But his hopes dropped again. They were not the same, and he should have been ashamed to think that such a union was holy. Not while he was cursed with ugliness. He couldn't place that curse onto her, not when she was so filled with light and beauty.

Nadir wasn't impressed now, Erik gloated privately as Nadir passed for dinner as well. It served him right after revealing his secrets. Nadir ordered some drinks for both himself and Christine, but she suddenly grabbed the waiter just moments before he was about to walk off. Christine stared directly at Erik, with no hesitation, and asked him if he needed a drink. She had mentioned a straw, and Erik knew that they were getting perilously close to talking about his mask again. He had refused, hoping to end the conversation, but after the waiter left, she pursued the conversation further by asking about his comfort.

Erik couldn't stand it. Why, _why_ did she have to ask now? It was all ruined; she would never look upon him with anything but fear and pity. His blood boiled as he thought about her inquisitiveness, and stood up, excusing himself so that he wouldn't explode in front of the poor girl. He made it away before she could speak, and went and hid in an empty hall. This was getting ridiculous. How did she manage to unhinge him within a few minutes? Why did she not turn from him and ignore him? He had acted terribly in front of her, worse than before now, and she must have been appalled with him, but _still_ she stayed. He hoped she hadn't left now. He hoped that Nadir hadn't decided to spill any more secrets now that he was gone.

Erik froze. Of _course_ that was what he would do. Nadir had no entertainment without Erik, so he would create his own, and how else would he do so then to tease Christine with stories of his past? Nadir would want to warn her away from him. He was probably already speaking to a waiter to place Christine back in her original seat. Would she go? Had Erik truly acted so monstrous in front of her? Was she actually just scared and was putting on a brave face?

He had to know. Erik kept to the walls as he peered around the corner to look at her. It seemed that she and Nadir were talking, but it clearly looked as though they weren't planning to move, as Christine had her arm resting on the table. She looked happy. She turned around in her seat, looking in his direction, and Erik had swiftly moved back to ensure that she didn't catch him. He had seen the look on her face. She had been concerned. Had it been concern for _him_?

Was there a chance that Nadir was actually managing to make him look good? Erik looked again. She was facing back towards Nadir. Erik decided that he would have to keep an eye on his temper, and his attitude around Christine, as he began to approach the table. Christine eagerly looked up at him, and Nadir's eyes flashed with something that Erik could only assume to mean, '_I approve of her_'. Erik told them he had just been talking to someone, and hoped that Christine believed it. She took it in stride, smiling to herself, and asked,

"So, how much longer until your category comes up? Do you know who you're up against?"

Erik nodded. "After the dinner has been cleared away, I should think. My category is quite early. And I have three other people who I am up against. Maria Parker, Jonathan Black and Everlasting, the string quartet."

"And they don't have odds as good as Erik does." Nadir supplied for Christine's benefit. "This album they chose of Erik's was very good. Very stirring."

"I shall have to listen to it." Christine said, shyly looking at Erik, before staring at her drink.

Erik held his breath with the thought of Christine listening to his work. He suddenly wanted to thrust all of his work before her. He wanted to see if she would smile and praise him again. They continued chatting, the tension easing away as they got more relaxed with each other. By the time the opening performance had started, Christine had been already laughing at some of his worst jokes. The three of them, sat close together and whispering, had drawn the attention of most of the people in the ballroom, talking among themselves as they watched the strange scenario unfold.

Erik had begun to notice that Christine's eyes were starting to glaze over, and she had kept staring off into space, her eyelids drooping slightly.

"Christine." He asked gently. "Are you alright?"

Christine started in her seat. "Oh, yes," She replied a little slowly. "I guess jet lag is just catching up. I had a nap before but I just feel so exhausted. I was hoping that my drink would perk me up but now I'm just getting sleepy again."

She began to pinch herself on the arm sharply, and Erik watched in fascination as she continued. "Please forgive me, I wasn't ignoring you or anything-"

"Don't worry about it. Shall I order you a coffee?" Nadir offered, waving over a waiter.

"Yes, thank you."

The order was carried out quickly, Erik and Nadir both watching her as she tried to stay awake until her coffee arrived. They tried talking to her, as she apologized again for drifting off, and they had calmed her by telling her she was allowed to be tired, while Erik watched her with a focused stare, growing more excited. When the waiter arrived with her coffee, he produced two biscuits topped with chocolate, smiling at her as she sleepily took it. Taking a few sips, she smiled at the waiter and thanked him again. The waiter walked away, and Erik followed him with his eyes as Christine began to tuck into the biscuits. The waiter had gone behind the bar and started to talk with the other waiters who were hanging around, watching them. He reminded himself of Christine's earlier words, and he tried to calm himself. He could not control their gossiping about him and he shouldn't hate them for it, though he still wanted to go over to them and banish them from the ballroom.

Christine perked up, having received her sugar rush, and eagerly began to watch the show with them. She clapped when appropriate, laughed when she saw fit, and Erik faced towards the stage, pretending to listen along, but really his attention darted back and forth from Christine, to Nadir, to keeping an eye on the cameras, and then he had to try to ignore the waiters and the other guests, who were clearly pretending not to pay them any attention.

It soon came to his category, and it dawned on Erik that he now had to stand up, receive his award, and with Christine watching him. He wondered if she would congratulate him. Hell, he would have accepted another smile from her, if he did win. Christine was listening politely to the songs they were playing, picked from each of his opponents, and he saw that when his name was announced and they played one of his songs, Christine turned to look at him, her mouth slightly open as she held her breath, unaware that he was watching her back. Was she so affected by his music? Did she feel the same way about his music that he felt about her? Or was she just holding her breath because she wanted to know who had won?

Erik patted his pocket, a new speech been hastily written in his head as his name was announced. Christine gasped, whispering her congratulations as she leant into him, and his heart fluttered. By now, the cameramen would have all been focused on him, finally capturing the moment they had all been waiting for, and no doubt _everyone_ was curious as to the relationship between Christine and himself. Erik shook Nadir's hand, sitting rigidly as he felt everyone's eyes dart towards him, and he turned to Christine, where he paused. How was he supposed to address Christine? A hug was too intimate, and a kiss was all he dared to dream. Would she shake his hand too, or what?

Christine did reach forward, but she took his hand within hers, cradling it affectionately. "I'm so _happy_ for you. You better get up on stage. We'll cheer you on."

Erik felt pride and joy as he did as he was told. Never before had Erik taken an order from any person, and here he found himself enjoying Christine's command. He stood up, and weaved his way down through the tables and up onto the stage, feeling light as he briskly took the award. It was gold, and in the shape of the number one. It wasn't particularly heavy, or attractive, but he let it rest carefully on the podium nonetheless. He pulled out his cards and pretended to stare at them. He couldn't think of his speech, but he soon began, staring at his award as he thought of Christine's face.

"I would thank to thank the judges for awarding me this, it is most appreciated." He began, deciding to keep it friendly for Christine's sake, though the words came out a little more gruff than he wanted. "I would also like to thank Nadir Kahn, my manager, for previously accepting these awards, and for getting me to come tonight."

He shot a glance at Christine, who was watching him closely. He couldn't see her too clearly, the bright lights aimed at him made everything appear blurry and washed out. He could see her though, her small silhouette looking very faint as he tried to clear his mind. "He has done a lot for me, acting as the face of the business, and he's always known what was best for me, and what was best for the business, while I just wrote the songs and let them turn to dust. So without him, my music wouldn't be available like it is today." Erik finished swiftly.

He finished, still staring at Christine who began clapping and Erik straightened his back, picking up the award and gave a stiff nod to the presenters of the award before walking off more quickly than he had walked on. There was the applause that Erik had always received, no matter how cold it felt. He knew not many of the people liked him here, but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less. Christine was welcoming him back with the biggest smile he had seen on her all night.

"Congratulations!" She said again, and she stood, holding out her arms. Erik stopped in his tracks, staring at her open arms in disbelief. She was actually offering a hug. It had felt like a lifetime, staring at her small body, wondering how it would feel to her her arms wrapped around him. Would it be gentle or would it be tight? But Christine must have thought something was wrong, because she suddenly looked hurt. Again, Erik wanted to punish himself for upsetting her. She let her arms drop, pursing her lips.

"Come sit down." She offered, trying not to show her hurt in her voice as she sat in her seat.

"Actually. There is no further need for us to be here. And I believe that you should also leave with us, so you can get to your hotel and get some sleep. You need your energy." He said so softly and slowly. He didn't want her to leave his side, but this was for the best. It was better he severed the connection between them before she got hurt any more. He could handle the pain of leaving her side, if he dug his fingers into his palm hard enough, though he wasn't sure if he could fix the pain that came from his heart. She had been the first women to naturally smile at him, the first woman who had admitted to enjoying his presence. It was difficult to let the one thing that other men took for granted leave his side.

She looked sad, and relaxed deeper into her seat. "I guess you're right." She looked at Nadir, reaching for her purse. "You're coming too, right?"

Nadir already had his face buried in his hands. "Yes. I should have figured that Erik wouldn't do this properly after all. I just can't take him anywhere." He said vaguely, pushing his seat back and preparing to leave, pulling out his phone to no doubt text their driver. "Can we drop you off at your hotel, Miss Daae?"

Christine shook her head, about to stand up. "No, that's alright, there's a limo waiting for me."

"Here." Erik said over her shoulder, pulling out her seat for her.

She rose gracefully enough, but looked unsure of herself as she gave a quick glance to her shoes. Erik reached out and took hold of Christine's arm boldly as she began to squirm her feet about, trying to adjust her grip in her shoes. He watched as her eyes met his, and she smiled again, which had turned into a grin by the time she was looking down as she physically adjusted her shoes herself with her free hand. There, all was forgiven! Erik was now proudly standing with a beautiful woman on his arm in a crowd of people who were slyly watching them. He couldn't have believed that such a thing could have happened to him. He would have laughed if someone had told him. Years ago, he would have killed to have been in the situation he found himself in now, but now he found he would have killed to keep it going.

"I might have to take my shoes off." She grumbled to herself sleepily. She looked up at him, blushing as her grip on Erik's arm readjusted. "But I'd hate to have to do that in front of the cameras."

"Allow me to walk you out." Erik had replied a little too hastily.

"Which means I can go ahead and leave you two to chat." Nadir chuckled. "Erik, I trust you know how to conduct yourself around polite company without my watching over you? I want to see you back in our limousine in ten minutes, I don't want you to keep her up."

"Fifteen, I should think." Erik joked privately with Nadir, placing his hand on top of Christine's. "I should like to say goodnight."

"Very well, Erik." Nadir turned to Christine. "Goodnight, Christine. It has been a pleasure to talk to you, and I very much hope I will see more of you. I enjoyed our conversation, and I hope it all turns out for the best."

Christine had been blushing so much, and stammered out a reply that had seemed understandable to Nadir, though Erik hadn't quite made it out clearly. Once they were alone, after Nadir waved to them both as he left, Christine addressed Erik.

"I'm sorry we're leaving early, I can't help but feel it's because of me. I think I may have spoiled your night."

Erik patted her hand, and she smiled as she watched their hands through sleepy eyes. "It would have been spoiled without you. I have enjoyed your presence immensely."

Christine looked up at him as they slowly began to leave. "So have I. I have to admit, I thought I'd just be so bored tonight, but I'm glad I met you. You've been so nice to me."

Erik guided her through the lobby, changing his voice to a whisper now as he apologized, "I'm afraid I've acted like a beast in front of you. I was so rude and-"

"It's okay." She said, turning her head sharply, causing her tiny golden ringlets to bounce around her shoulders. "Don't think about it. You have your reasons. You don't have to tell me. Just know that despite all that happened, even the falling on top of you, I still enjoyed myself in your company."

They had stopped walking now. Erik felt the same pain as before. Self-doubt and a sense of loss rose up in him as she clung onto him. They said nothing, and stared at each other for a few seconds. They took each other in, openly staring at all the details the other person had to offer. Erik stroked Christine's thumb that was resting on his arm with his own, and Christine bit her lip bowing her head as she smiled. Erik loved that. He wanted to lift up her face so she would smile at him, but that would have gone too far. He had already risked it with the thumb stroking.

"I want to see you again." He confessed, the confidence in him rising.

"I want that too." She confessed also.

"What hotel are you staying at?" Erik asked, blushing as he began to imagine what her room would have looked like.

"The Winchester, near Central Park." She told him, looking up with nervousness now. What luck!

"Then I hope you would not turn down an invitation from me if I were to send you one?" Erik asked, a thousand rampant thoughts dashing through his head as he awaited her answer. "I mean, to do something. While you're here for the week."

She smiled tenderly. "No, I would not turn it down."

Erik wanted to spin her around the room, it was so fantastic. She was agreeing to see him again. He knew now that she would forgive him for what he was about to do tomorrow. He still needed to pluck up the courage to do it, but all would be revealed soon enough, and she would be happy, with just the both of them. He could make her happy, if she would let him. Christine waved goodbye to him again, after she had squeezed his hand and pulled away from him, something that Erik felt disheartened about. She stepped out of the lobby, and into a flurry of flashing cameras and loud shouting. Erik watched after her, blinded by the halo that surrounded her and her figure, and closed his eyes, preserving the image of her on his arm only a few seconds ago.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing, I can't wait for more. I'm so overjoyed from all of the reviews. There's plenty more coming.**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Mariah Carey's 'Lead the Way'_**

_Who would've believed  
That you and me would fall  
And land together  
And who could've foreseen  
In you I'd find the place  
I've belonged forever  
And if I move closer  
Then love will take over  
And lead the way_

* * *

Nadir groaned, arching his back as he stretched all of his muscles, rubbing his face as he turned in his place. He was exhausted. Both Erik and he had arrived back at Erik's apartment, where Erik graciously allowed him the couch and went straight into his own bedroom. Before that, Erik had stayed silent in the limo, refusing to tell Nadir what he and Christine had spoken of, but Nadir had been too tired to ask too much or he was afraid he might turn into Christine, yawning already in the limo. Nadir had kicked off his shoes and just collapsed onto the leather-bound couch before falling asleep. That had been a few hours ago, Nadir guessed, looking around the room. A door slammed somewhere, and Nadir didn't need to guess to know that Erik was already up and about. Nadir saw the clock on the wall, read 7:38am and grumbled. He suddenly remembered what had happened the night before, and sat up. The whole affair of the night before came flooding into his head, and he couldn't help but wonder if it had all _actually_ happened. Even Christine's words seemed too good to be true.

"Erik." He shouted, before he coughed. "_Erik_!"

"There's no need to shout." Came a voice from behind him.

Nadir spun around and jumped at the sight of Erik's figure standing a few feet away, in the doorway of his kitchen. Erik was wearing new clothes, but it was still a formal outfit. He no longer wore a jacket or tie, and he was unrolling his sleeves, his hands already gloved, which hid his unfortunate skin condition.

"Did you…"

"Make a friend? Yes, I think I did. And a most charming and delightful one at that. I have not slept so I do not think it was a dream." Erik mused. It was a persistent aggravation of Nadir's that Erik rarely slept most nights; whether it was his own choice, or the one his demons gave him. "Come, I have made you breakfast, and then I shall have to ask you to leave. You've made your daily visit now, haven't you? You've filled that quota."

Nadir's eyes were drawn to the object in Erik's hand. "Erik, have you got my phone?"

Erik turned in his spot and re-entered the kitchen. "I needed it for research."

Nadir rubbed his face again. Knowing Erik, it would have something to do with Christine. Erik, whenever something caught his attention, liked to observe and test his newest fixation, in provoking and unusual ways. Never before though, had a _person_ become his latest obsession. Erik seemed beyond smitten now, and he hoped that for Christine's sake, Erik would learn to control his temper if things didn't go his way. Nadir was worried that maybe he ought to do something to slow them down, and if it came to it, maybe even stopping them altogether. They seemed so perfect for each other though, it was heartbreaking to have to think this way, but he didn't want to have to help heal a broken Erik, or worse, a broken Christine. Neither of the options seemed good. He glanced at the doorway. Was it wrong to continue this? Erik had never made him breakfast before. Maybe Christine was already doing him some good, which made Nadir nervous, but excited. Was Erik planning on something and needed him out of the way? He stood up and followed Erik into the kitchen, turning the corner to find the breakfast bar already laid out for him. There was an apple on a plate that had come with a knife, a glass of orange juice and some toast waiting for him. Nadir smiled with relief.

"Were you planning on asking me?" Nadir asked, regarding his phone, as he sat at the breakfast bar.

Erik spun around from the kitchenette with a small pot in his hands. He spooned some scrambled eggs onto a plate and handed it to Nadir. "No."

"And I bet it has something to do with Christine."

"True." Erik agreed, placing down the pot without looking at it, and handed Nadir a fork and his phone.

Erik watched Nadir impatiently, holding both objects out, but Nadir refused to even move until Erik explained the whole situation thoroughly.

"You were up all night watching her videos, weren't you?" Nadir asked, giving up after a moment to put his phone back into his pocket after checking the time.

Erik moved to the other side of the kitchen, and made a cup of coffee. It was clear from his agitated state and the readily produced food that he was indeed planning something, so why was Erik so reluctant to tell Nadir about it? Surely Erik must have been excited?

"I was. I wanted to know more than she told me, and so I did some investigation on her. Her channel, while amusing and wonderful to watch, doesn't interest me as much as her singing."

"Her singing?"

"Yes, there are four videos that feature any mention of her singing. Two of them only had a few seconds of her talking about her voice, and the third was just as useless. It showed her singing happy birthday with a few people, which was for another vlogger. And then there's the video she told us about."

Nadir drank some coffee. "Is it any good, her singing?"

Erik stared off into space, silent, until he returned to himself and admitted in a pleased tone, "I can hear what she used to sing like. She was a wonderful singer, at one point, I think. The talent she has is astonishing, but I believe that because the song is dedicated to her dead father, she might not have been trying as hard as she could. Her emotion clouds her talent you see and-"

Nadir stared at Erik in shock. "I hope you don't tell her that."

Erik tilted his head to one side to show Nadir his confusion. "Why ever not? I think she could do with a teacher, at least to improve-"

"What you just said, about her late father, was rude." Nadir pointed out.

"Then what should I say?" Erik asked, more interested in this conversation.

"It doesn't even matter, I doubt it will come up." Nadir prodded, hoping that Erik would reveal something to him. Christine's words to Nadir had certainly convinced him that the attraction between them was mutual, but he doubted if Erik saw it that way. The first step was to get Erik to admit that he wanted to see Christine again in a more intimate fashion.

"And what does _that_ mean?" Erik asked, stepping around the breakfast bar.

Nadir tried not to smirk at Erik. "It means that you'll never even see her again, right?"

There, maybe that would get Erik to reveal whatever it was he was planning. Nadir could see without looking around the room that the entire apartment had been cleaned. It suggested to Nadir that Erik was planning on bringing Christine here, but surely Erik wasn't that bold? He had only met the girl the night before.

"I should say we _are_!" Erik roared, jabbing his finger into Nadir's shoulder. "I plan on surprising her-"

"Ah ha! I _knew_ it! You want to bring Christine here, to your apartment. Is _that_ what the both of you spoke about last night after I left?"

Erik paused, his hands twitching, irritated by Nadir's interruption, and continued. "I plan on surprising her this morning. If she is pleased, I hope to bring her here for the evening so I can talk to her more intimately."

"To what end, may I ask?"

Erik tried to brush off Nadir's implication, but found he couldn't and hissed, "Not what you are thinking, _Daroga_. If all goes as planned, by tonight she will be my new pupil and I shall make her the greatest singer the world has ever known. Her voice will unite every listener far greater than I ever shall. People will love her."

Nadir coughed. Strangely enough it had been while Nadir was thinking of grabbing his orange juice. He noticed the coincidence from the night before and passed on to the more important issue of what Erik had called him. That word, he knew, was used only when Erik was beyond fun and games. Which made Nadir take Erik's words very seriously.

"Don't people already love her? She has followers I believe. And I imagine not only on her channel but on these social media websites and, dare I say it, in real life."

"Yes, but they're barely anything." Erik said. "She has about 6,645 followers as of 3 hours ago, but only around half of them actually watch it. You heard how happy she was that she got a million views on her video. And on her other sites, it is less than a thousand. She has no family, and her only 'friends' are her work colleagues." He added as an afterthought, "But what point are you making?"

"That she has a life of her own, have you not learned that?" Nadir asked. "Did _you_ hear about how she couldn't sing after her father died?"

Erik remained silent, staring at Nadir as he stood behind the breakfast bar.

"I... I know she has," He began slowly. "But I can offer her the world. She'll see it, I know she will. She came to me last night and she will again."

Nadir sat back in his seat, rubbing his mouth with his napkin. "So, what is your next step now?"

"I shall need you to leave before I can do the next step. I need to clear up after you _first_, however." Erik said passively, gesturing to the breakfast he had made.

"Then you better hurry up, I have the limo waiting downstairs for you." Nadir grinned as he imagined Erik to have his mouth hanging open as Nadir pulled out his phone. "It was to arrive at 8am and it is now … exactly that, go figure!"

Erik stood still, watching him. Nadir rolled his eyes. "As in now, you _idiot_, she might have already left the hotel by now."

Erik leapt away from the breakfast bar and began the hunt around his apartment for his jacket. He found it in his bedroom, and grabbed a few things that Nadir ignored as he continued with his breakfast, and Erik was out of the door in a flash.

"Bloody hell, don't wait for me then!" Nadir roared, and then gave up, grumbling to himself as he got up and began to scour the fridge. "The two of them are crazy, but for the love of God they fit."

* * *

Christine finished tying her shoes and stood up, grabbing her jacket from the bed and admired herself in the mirror. She was wearing a pair of bright green cotton shorts that stopped just above her knees, along with some red converse, and a white tank top. She had already applied her sunscreen, tying her hair up into a french braid, grabbed some sunglasses and was all ready to leave. She took out her purse and pulled out her camera, switching it on and pressing record after making sure her SD card was in. She held it out from her face and grinned happily.

"Hi everyone, and hello newcomers, because I am _fully_ aware that you're there." She laughed. "I saw all of the links you sent me, and yes, that really was me, and no, I am _not_ interested in selling my story."

Christine had woken up that morning to find that her inbox was filled with messages asking if that was actually her and whether it really happened. She honestly hadn't known how to respond at first, but she had decided that a short intro for her video before she started her day would clear the air without hurting Erik.

She had been thinking of him from the moment she had left his side. She had arrived back to her hotel dazed, smiling the whole way, and headed straight for her room, where she collapsed onto the bed and allowed herself to relax, sinking into the pillows as she lay on her back. She had managed to kick her shoes off and toss her purse off of the bed, and pulled a pillow close to her, encompassing it with her arms in an embrace. She had sighed happily, and drifted off to sleep. The next morning, her alarm on her phone that she had set before she had left for the awards ceremony started, and Christine opened her eyes as she listened to one of her favourite songs. She calmly reached out for the pillow that she had grabbed the night before, and hugged it once more.

"Good morning, Erik." She had told it, raising herself up as she drew her knees together.

The rest of the morning had been spent logging into her accounts, and staring in amusement at all of her messages. Most of them had been sent from people who had never heard of her, asking intimate questions. She rifled through them to find any she recognized, and found the same thing. She had followed their links to news articles, and clips online, and she had watched the entire event from start to finish, edited so that it contained only her and Erik. She had watched the video, and found herself reacting in different ways. She had laughed when she fell on him, and had blushed again as she watched herself accept Erik's arm to invite her inside. She saved the link after that point, and watched as more badly zoomed shots were directed at her as she sat at her first table, but the video mostly emphasized her walk over to Erik when she was invited over. Christine had been shocked as she watched herself; she looked like an idiot, grinning madly, all teeth showing, and looked pretty much the same the whole show afterwards. Thankfully, they hadn't shown any more of Erik. While he was expressive; there was no way of really knowing what he was thinking due to the mask. Once the show started, the cameras were pretty much off the both of them, but when Erik's award came, they had filmed her taking Erik's hand within her own. Christine at this point was busy applying make-up and stopped to watch the video proudly. She watched as Erik took the podium, made his short speech, and rushed back to her side, and she stared as most of the guests at the award show were laughing among themselves as he darted around their tables. She had given a small growl at that point, remembering the night differently. She hadn't even seen them laughing then, she had been so wrapped up in Erik's presence, but now she could see their faces, she growled again as she smudged her lipstick.

She had turned off the video at that point, and chose to read some of the other messages. Some of them were from big broadcasting companies, wanting her story. She had followed the links to their articles they had written about her and Erik, but found them to be so incomplete. It captured none of the magic of her memory, and they had written him to seem like a mad man, and her to seem as though she was only doing it for attention. She felt a little downhearted as she read on, and followed some more links that were related to Erik. It seemed that Erik was either something to be feared or laughed at. Apparently he lived in New York, but had houses across the world, but that was only rumored as no-one knew the locations of each of the homes. She had turned everything off at that point, and sat quietly to herself as she thought things through calmly.

Erik was obviously interested, now that she had seen the two of them together on her computer. Nadir had said so himself and gave his blessing. Whether _Erik_ knew that Christine was interested in _him_, she did not know. He seemed confused when approaching her, and she wanted to bring him out so she could talk to him like a regular person, but she knew it was because of some other personal issues (What she understood what must have been what Nadir was hiding from her) that he _wasn't_ a regular person. It must have been, certainly, about his appearance, but there was something deeper in him. It reminded her of the ocean, and the fact that no one had ever been to the bottom. She wanted to reach the bottom, and show everyone the wonders hiding there.

She was unsure if Nadir was going to try to prompt Erik into asking her out, as he had seemed reluctant to force anything. Then she cheered herself up, weaving her hair into a French braid as she sat on the bed, as she remembered that Erik knew where she was staying, and that he had offered to send an invitation to see him again. She knew it was early, only around 10am by the time she had gotten dressed, but she had hoped to see a message from him soon. Surely he would have done so through the hotel by now?

She adjusted the camera and continued. "So I'm going to tell you what happened, in my own words. I fell on Mr Destler, much to my humiliation, and he offered to walk me inside. We got chatting, and he invited me over to sit with him, where we chatted some more. Mr Destler got his award and suggested that since he didn't need to stick around, and I was jet lagged, that we both leave. We did not leave together but he did walk me to the lobby, where he was a gentleman. Now I've seen your messages - _thanks for all of the support by the way_," She added sarcastically, "I'd appreciate some actual questions on whether or not I had a good time, not what we discussed. I did have a good time, matter of fact, it was wonderful. Being here in America has been amazing, and meeting Erik was …"

Christine paused, unable to continue. She wasn't sure how to properly express herself once she thought of Erik.

"It was magnificent. He was interesting and funny, he's a genius at everything and I'm so jealous of his talent. He turned what would have been a tedious night into something I'll never forget. I mean, now that it's the day after, I realize now that I'm probably not going to see him again as he's a very busy man, as well as being a celebrity, so that's that." She finished, trying not to reveal her hopes too much.

"Meanwhile, I've got a whole day planned out, hopefully I'll get some good footage. I should be able to get this up by tonight, So enjoy!"

She smiled, waving happily at the camera, and waited a second before pressing the button to switch the camera off, and checked she had everything before she left for the elevator. She had picked up her brown leather bag that contained everything she needed, which included her passport and her American dollars, which she knew she'd be staring at again in the taxi in total fascination. Arriving in the lobby, she pulled out her phone from her bag, which was slung over one shoulder, and headed straight for the doors, waking up her phone as she reached the doors. She was trying to bring up a map, to see which of the more popular tourist attractions were close to her. Passing through the doors, it wasn't until she was a few steps away from the hotel that she was even aware that she was surrounded by paparazzi.

"Oh my god," Christine gasped, stopping in her track as everyone surrounding her was taking videos and shooting photos of her. They were shouting questions over each other that she couldn't even hear, and it had been so deafening that she felt like a deer caught in headlights. The cameras were being thrust into her face, and she panicked again. "_Oh god, oh god_."

She stumbled back into the hotel and panicked, heading over to the lounge area and grabbed a seat in sheer surprise. Her entire body crumbled as she swore to herself under her breath. She knew now that she wouldn't be able to leave, now that they knew where she was staying. She had guessed that maybe once she had gotten out into New York that maybe one or two people would recognize her, and she had hoped that because she looked so different now that she wasn't in a dress, that she just looked like a regular tourist. She hadn't thought that the reporters would know where she was staying. No one else knew, did they? Someone must have heard, and she cringed in horror. She began to curl up into a ball, moaning to herself as she hugged her knees. She had completely embarrassed herself once more. What was everyone going to think of her? This wasn't what she wanted when she wished for more attention to her channel.

"Excuse me, Miss Daae?"

Christine looked up, blushing red. A blond girl, just a little taller than Christine, dressed in the hotel staff uniform was addressing her. Her name was Meg Giry, Christine read on her silver name badge. Christine sat up.

"I'm sorry, I-" She began, but the woman only smiled and replied,

"We understand that you have an issue with escaping the flock, so to speak." Meg spoke. "So we have a ride out the back waiting for you so you can get a head start."

Christine grinned. "Thank you so much, is it a taxi? Which way is it?"

"Right this way." Meg said, and Christine wasn't sure whether it was polite to press her on her dismissal of her first question, but let it pass.

She got up, adjusting her bag, and followed, trying to keep up with the woman in heels.

"So, first big day in America?" Meg asked.

"Kind of. There was yesterday, after all. But yeah, the first of six days that I can use to relax and explore." Christine replied with a shrug.

"You excited?" Meg asked, directing her towards the back of the hotel, towards a door marked 'EXIT'.

"Extremely. I've always wanted to visit America, and everyone seems so friendly."

"Aw, I'm glad. By the by, I love your accent. I've always adored the British accent you know." Meg joked, finishing the last sentence in an _English_ accent, but Christine didn't want to correct her. She was enjoying the girl's way of talking, it was friendly and open without being too inquisitive.

"Thanks, I love listening to the American accent." Christine said as they reached the door.

"Well, I hope you have a wonderful day. Everyone's really happy for you."

"Oh, uh," Christine stammered. "…Thanks?"

Christine turned from Meg, blushing fervently as she pushed on the door and stepped out into an alleyway.

The sight that greeted Christine made her freeze. She could have dropped her bag and jumped up and down while screaming excitedly like a five year old. Erik was standing before her, dressed so smartly in a white shirt and black jacket, and the glorious mask he wore was aimed at her. He was standing up before the boot of a long limousine, watching her. She felt her heart leap into her mouth as she found a thousand things she wanted to tell him, but it made her speechless as she could only stand and stare at him, her whole body trembling with excitement.

Christine heard the door shut behind her and jumped, prompting her to say, "_Erik_!" with a bit more excitement than she had intended.

Erik laughed merrily, bowing his head as he leaned down slightly. "_Christine_."

"How long have you been waiting?" Christine asked, stunned by his appearance, though overly charmed by his voice once again.

"Not long." He assured her, done with his laughter.

Christine stared at him, and burst out into a smile. "What are you doing here? Don't you have work to do?"

Erik pressed his hands to the side of the car and leaned against it. He spoke with a calm and reassuring manner. "Not really. I do as I please. I thought you might like a ride to wherever it is you're going."

Christine walked down the last couple of steps and stood in front of him, their shoes practically touching. He had stiffened at her approach, and she found it endearing. Maybe he was just nervous from the prospect of having to meet people and be around them. Or maybe it was just his nerves around her. He treated her so carefully, like she was made of glass. She thought of the smooth glass pieces that you could find on beaches, worn down and made beautiful by the ocean.

"I'd like that." She told him boldly.

Erik sat up straighter and pushed himself up off of the car, so that he was standing so close to Christine that she could see the hairs on his neck. He was a good head taller than she, and she found herself staring up at his mask. It was turned down to face her, looking directly into her face, as though he was trying to read her as hard as she was trying to read him. They could almost have been about to kiss, she thought.

"Magnificent. I shall take you wherever you like-" Erik raced up and around Christine as he stood in front of the passenger door, ready to open it.

Christine frowned suddenly, realizing that she didn't want to put him in that situation. He must have been scared enough as it was, trying to talk to her _and_ trying to stay calm must have been seriously stressing him out. He was being rather finicky. Erik had slightly moved towards her, noticing her hesitation, but stopped, and asked,

"Is everything okay? I know you might have prior arrangements, but I-"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm just trying to think of where we could go." Christine interrupted, deciding that Times Square wasn't a good bet.

Would a museum be okay for him? They could look at some artwork, but there would still be people there who would have cameras and the reporters might find her with _him_ this time, instead of just catching her in front of her hotel. They could go to some small cafe somewhere, but the problem with the reporters was the same. She was about to pull out her phone to search for places to go when Erik said,

"I don't want to ruin your day." He said tensely, clenching his fists.

"It would have been ruined without you." She quoted sweetly, pulling out her phone. "Now, where do you like to go?"

She was still staring down at her phone, ready to type in her search bar when she found Erik hadn't answered. She turned her head, and asked,

"Well, where do you spend your free time?" She asked, moving on.

"I spend every waking moment in my apartment when I am not working." He said quietly.

Christine smiled. "Well then, it'll be an adventure for both of us, won't it?"

She began to search for popular tourist points in New York, looking for anything secluded or unpopular, so she could spare Erik. She could tell that he was upset, he seemed discouraged now, slumping slightly in his place, and she looked up at him.

"Why don't you choose?" She offered.

Erik was still standing in his place, but he straightened, and answered, "There is one place I would like to take you, though you are free to say no."

Christine smiled. "I'd be happy to go anywhere with you, Erik."

Erik bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, _Christine_." He practically sang out her name in relief, and Christine giggled.

"So where _are_ we going?" She asked, looking at the limousine as she pulled a face to show her curiosity.

"I remembered last night that you mentioned that you wanted to see the Statue of Liberty, so I have arranged for a yacht for us to relax on-"

"You already arranged it?" She asked, puzzled.

Erik faltered. "Yes, it is at your disposal for the day, to be used whenever you see fit."

"Oh my god, you didn't." She laughed, her eyes widening. "We get to go on a yacht? That's awesome!"

"I'm glad you approve." He replied, opening the door for her.

Christine took a deep breath as she tried to calm herself, deciding that she would just have to do her vlog another day, and walked over to the passenger seat door, staring inside it, and looked up at Erik.

"I guess we didn't need that invitation after all." She chuckled, getting into the car with as much decorum as she could afford.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing, I can't wait for more. I'm so overjoyed from all of the reviews. There's plenty more coming.**

**I am aware of the bad spelling, I do thoroughly check it, but as I'm aiming to write around 4000 words a day, it's a bit tough to edit when I have other things going on, so I might miss a few letters somewhere. Please be patient, and help out by pointing out any errors, as they will be corrected once they are brought to my attention. I'm using the fanfiction spell checker, but it's not entirely accurate at the best of times.**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Elvis Presley's 'Can't Help Falling In Love With You'_**

_Wise men say only fools rush in_  
_But I can't help falling in love with you_  
_Shall I stay_  
_Would it be a sin_  
_If I can't help falling in love with you_

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_  
_Darling so it goes_  
_Some things are meant to be_  
_Take my hand, take my whole life too_  
_For I can't help falling in love with you_

* * *

Erik waited impatiently in the back alley of the Winchester, having been told by the staff that Christine had not yet emerged from her room from the moment she got back the night before, which meant that Erik had to wait for her, and he would, he just wasn't happy about it. He had done his waiting, all of his life in fact, and it was over now. Now that she was here he was going to keep her close. Erik had tipped the girl who had informed him, who had been formal, but friendly, and he asked that she direct Christine over to him without informing her of his presence, and he knew she would do as she was told. He owned the hotel after all, having designed it several years ago, and it had proved to be a good investment already. Erik hadn't told Christine this small fact, because he wasn't sure how she would react. She might have been scared off by such a coincidence, and he didn't want to risk their '_friendship'_, as Nadir had teasingly put it in the limousine on the way home, and so he chose to pass over it and hoped she would concentrate on him, instead of his good fortune. He supposed that taking her on a yacht wasn't a good way of doing it, but he still wanted to impress her. She was worth it, he knew that. So had been the waiting while she slept. If he had slept, he would have hoped to have dreamed of her.

He had been waiting nearly two hours hoping that she wasn't still sleep, though it was likely; she had been exhausted the night before. He had originally waited in the car, wondering if he ought to just send her a message, but he _liked_ the idea of surprising her. That was what men did, wasn't it? Made overly grand gestures in an attempt to woo the women they cared for? He did care for her, Erik had sighed in defeat. He was hopelessly and utterly in love with Christine, and only after one night. She was his miracle, his one chance at redemption and God had given her to him. One whole night filled with her lovely image permanently in his mind, taunting him with her smiles and her freely given touches, which pained him to remember. He could have _hugged_ her. He could have held her small frame so close to his and felt complete and happy with everything in the world. Maybe she would have held him back, tight and warm, squeezing her arms around him. He would have been able to bury his face in her hair and breathe her in. He could have felt human.

If God had given him a beautiful face, no, a face like any other man, then he would have grabbed Christine and never let go.

Erik, realizing how hot and bothered he had gotten had stepped out of the limousine to get some fresh air, and had stared down both ends of the alley, where he had arranged some of the hotel security to stand guard to keep any reporters from disturbing him, and Christine once she came down. He couldn't keep them away from the front of the hotel, however, as they had the freedom of the press on the sidewalk. He had seen their news reports and their videos of them together. He had been outraged at their insinuation of her only looking for attention, but he had repeated Christine's words in his head. Every sentence she had spoken had become mantras for him, a way to live his life now. He wanted to be a better man for her, to show her she should not be afraid of him like so many were, and had been. He wasn't sure how to treat her once he saw her, either. He wondered if she would be eager to see him. She could have easily just been caught up in the moment last night, young and excited as she was. She might not even have taken him seriously when he had asked to see her again. So Erik decided that the best way to handle the situation was to act aloof and carefree when she saw him, and see her own actions towards him so he could mimic her. He hoped _she_ was going to hope aloof and carefree too.

He had originally planned to take her to a theatre which he had rented for the day, hoping that he would be able to get her to sing, and hopefully convince her to become his pupil, but after talking with Nadir that morning, he had seen that these things weren't to be rushed. She had to warm to the idea, and no doubt the memory of her father would make it difficult for her, but Erik was determined. Anything, to spend another minute around her. With any luck, she would come to respect and admire him as much as he did her, and one day…

He shook his head, and groaned as he ended up having to re-adjust his mask, pulling on his skin as he tried to twist it about. He was unconvinced that Christine would feel anything for him. Last night, she had been polite, and that was all. He hoped she would be polite to him again today. He had changed his plans, putting out some calls and ringing in some debts as he prepared some activities for them to do, if she didn't object to them, and he now waited for her, leaning against the car as the driver waited silently.

The fire exit opened suddenly, and he spun around, breathless as Christine emerged, her head bowed down. He stood, waiting for her to see him, and admired her outfit. She was dressed simply, minimal make-up and accessories, her hair braided beautifully over her shoulder with a few rolls of blond ringlets framing her face. She was wearing shorts, and Erik shamelessly allowed himself to appreciate her legs. He had, after all, been waiting all night to see her, and it was a present he allowed himself, he reasoned. It wasn't as if he had never seen a woman's legs before, the red carpet revealed many things, but it was _her_ legs. He blushed after a few seconds of looking, and took her whole image in. She was carrying her phone and some sunglasses in one hand, while she held up a bag she had slung around her shoulder with another. He felt himself being drawn to her as she lifted her eyes and saw him. Her whole expression had changed at the sight of him, and it drew hope in him.

Christine had stood still, watching him in delight surprise. Then she smiled. She looked relieved to see him. The girl in the doorway had quickly given him a thumb up and disappeared behind the door, slamming it shut. He had ignored the casual gesture, and focused on Christine, who had jumped at the sound, and his name had burst from her lips in shock. He had laughed, just so thankful to see her. She seemed surprised to see him, however, and he wondered what she was thinking. She had laughed aloud, and asked him if he had to work, to which he tried his plan of appearing calm and collected, but that had quickly gone south once she started to approach him. Erik had panicked, her white legs swimming before him, and he had honestly tried not to watch, feeling shame build up in him. He would have cursed outright would it not have scared her. Maybe sending a message to her bedroom would have been the best move, he probably would not have had to deal with her bare legs then. He inspected her shoes. She wasn't even wearing socks. This was probably a bad idea.

But she had told him that she did want to spend her day with him, and he had been so excited, that he had stood up in front of her, to find her little head practically against his chest, turned up to face him. Her lips were so full, and her eyes had been so animated when concentrating on him.

He had stared openly, and wanted to remove his gloves and brush her cheeks with his fingers, feeling her beneath him. His whole body wanted to bury itself in her embrace. She was an angel, sent to torment him, he was convinced, but he would let her torture him, if it came to it, and he would cry for her forgiveness in her arms if she let him.

Erik had left her side, opting to open the passenger seat door for her in case he should forget himself in front of her, but saw her expression change. She was conflicted, he assumed, but he soon found out that she was just trying to think of where they could go. Erik didn't want to force his plans on her, and if there was something else she'd rather would, he would do it, but she seemed to be preoccupied with trying to think of him before her.

It made him irritated, he wanted her to enjoy herself, not to be constantly thinking of him and pitying him like that. True, New York wasn't a private place, which was why he stayed in his apartment, but he would risk a thousand reporters with cameras if it meant he could spend his day with her. Christine had interrupted his line of thought with some questions that had made him feel even worse. She was asking where he liked to hang out, and he honestly couldn't answer. She was expecting him to be the social butterfly that she was, and he disgracefully told her that apart from work, he never left his apartment.

She had brushed it off, and made a joke of it, claiming it as an adventure for the both of them as she resumed checking her phone for tourist spots. Erik had been moved by her words, but decided that he would step in and offer her his plans, to which she accepted happily. She had said his name with such warmth that Erik couldn't help but show his own affections for her when he spoke her name and it caused her to giggle. Erik smiled; he wanted to bring out all the rest of her emotions. She started walking towards him, smiling as she widened her eyes in an enthusiastic expression of interest, asking where they were going.

He had told her, knowing she would be impressed by the yacht, and he had been right, having nearly been crushed underneath her approval. He had hoped she would like it; it was something she had mentioned that she would be doing today anyway, so why not with him and in private?

She had been about to lean over and get into the car, but she had looked up at him, with a look that he had not been able to place, and said,

"I guess we didn't need that invitation after all."

He watched as Christine bowed her head and got into the passenger seat. He wasn't sure how to take those words. She sounded as though she was flirting, something he had seen women do plenty of times, but her voice had been light and full of fun, unlike the more seductive women he had come across, whose voice's had been suggestive and low. He had come across plenty of women who had tried to accost him at parties, all them wanting something from him, whether it was sex, money or publicity, and he had ignored them, seeing through their laced veil of lies.

But Christine had no lies in her. She was honest, and exposed to him. She didn't want anything from him, but his time. Her words had made his stomach twist about, he was confident that he was reading into her words too much, and had slammed shut the door, racing around to the other side as he left himself in. Now he was sitting inside he was too scared to turn and look at her, but she was already facing him and waiting for him to speak. Erik deftly pressed a button and told the driver to leave. Christine was still watching him, though she couldn't tell he was sweating profusely beneath his mask, trying to not gulp in air as though he was drowning. She looked back into her lap, and rummaged around in there for a few minutes, probably to give him the chance to say something to her, but he found that he wouldn't have known where to start. She had apparently decided to take control of the situation when she gave up searching for her imaginary item, and turned to face him again, now determined.

"Um, Erik, can we talk?"

Erik didn't like the sound of her voice. It was telling him that she was having trouble with something, and he didn't think he was going to like what he heard. Nonetheless, he nodded his head ever so slightly, staring at his feet, gripping the door handle tightly.

"Erik, please look at me." She asked, a little gentler this time.

He did as she asked, turned his mask towards her, and was tempted to keep his eyes elsewhere, but they were drawn immediately to her, and he cringed as she smiled sadly. Her hand was so close to his, only inches away from his, and he wanted to take it and squeeze it, but he didn't, instead watching her as she twisted more in her seat to get a better look at him.

"Erik," She began, but stopped, changing her mind as she tried a new approach. "I guess you've seen us in the newspapers and on TV, huh?"

He nodded again, as he watched her purse her lips to one corner of her mouth.

"I didn't think they'd overreact so much, I didn't think they'd find where I was staying either. They were hanging about at the front of the hotel, waiting for me. I'm sorry Erik, but I just embarrassed myself in front of them."

"Why should you apologize? They're the ones that are following you." Erik said, choosing to ignore that he had practically stalked her online, the same as those rats would have done, which Erik certainly felt like now he was back in Christine's presence.

"Well, I know that, but it kind of reflects on you, doesn't it? After all, you're the celebrity." She answered, looking more confused than before. "And I'm the attention seeking tourist."

"I don't think you're attention seeking."

Christine shook her head again. "Thanks, I wasn't exactly sure _what_ you thought of me. I'm glad we're alone so we can talk about this."

Erik nodded, grateful they were alone too. "I hope you weren't too offended by the media's portrayal of you."

Christine stared at him, and grinned. "Well, I doubt they could embarrass me any more than I did myself last night. Some of my subscribers couldn't believe it, one of them had even been in the crowd too and saw everything, and apparently he burst out into laughter. "

Erik shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So you talk to your viewers on a regular basis?" He asked, though he knew the answer. While she was popular enough to have plenty of followers, she wasn't so popular that she couldn't respond to their messages individually.

"Yeah, they're pretty cool, and pretty understanding. There are some that I get on with really well, you know? They're just so supportive and they want to really discuss my videos with me." She rolled her eyes. "Then you get the people who just comment on stupid things. Which is great, they're involved, but I'd like an actual conversation, you know?"

Erik didn't know, but he pretended he did so she would continue.

"So, um, how do we … I mean, like, how do we respond to the media?" She asked meekly. "They're kind of just doing their job, you know, but at the same time, I want our time to be private."

Erik's heart began bouncing around, threatening to kill him if he wasn't careful. "Our time?"

She nodded, _blushing_ in front of him. "Yes, _our_ time."

"You think this will happen again?" He asked slowly, turning his head away from her, his grip loosening on the car seat.

"Well, if you want." She said, shrugging. "I know you're a busy man, and you've got better things to do than entertain a tourist."

"I want to," He said, interrupting her. He turned to look at her. "Only if you want to."

Christine laughed, and buried her face in her hands. Erik had been mortified, pulling away from her as she suddenly revealed her face.

"You really are _shy_, aren't you? How many times am I gonna have to hint to you that I do want the same thing as you?"

"Christine, I do not think-"

"Then don't think! Just do whatever feels comfortable to you. I don't want you doing something because you think it will make me happy, I want you to just relax and unwind with me." She said, taking Erik's gloved hand. It had fallen limp in her touch, and she had rubbed his fingers tenderly, massaging them as she watched their hands. "You want to hang out with me too, don't you?"

"Yes, I do." Erik admitted nervously.

"And Nadir told me that you like me. I like you too. I know you don't like cameras or people. So let's just like each other and enjoy today. I just want to get to know you, Erik." She said, close to a whisper as she leaned in.

Erik could smell her perfume, if that was what it was. It was dainty, but heady, and Erik sat in her presence in disbelief and pride. Sending a thankful prayer to Nadir, promising him an even bigger gift than before, he squeezed back Christine's hand.

"Thank you. I would enjoy that."

"And as for the press, forget about them, just pretend I didn't mention it." She said, reaching back into her bag. Erik watched miserably as she pulled her hands away to retrieve her phone, but brightened when she began to turn it off. "Oh hey, the weather is just so amazing over here. It's so warm, I've even got some sun lotion on, I haven't gotten to wear sun lotion in years!"

That must have been the perfume; she was covered with it, her arms and her legs, her chest and her neck. She had done most of her face, and then applied mascara to make her lashes longer, and some light pink lipstick. She was still talking away about the weather, smiling as Erik looked away, as he tried to think about the weather and how it felt to someone from London.

"Was the weather alright back in London?" He asked, wondering if it was alright to bring up her life back home.

"Well, I guess what we'd call a good day is what you'd call a bad day. I mean, it's never nice, it's just sort of average, and you should see it when the weather _is_ good and it's hot, everyone just goes out and does stuff. It does mean more money for me though, cos you know I told you I work at 'Edward's Bright Idea'?"

Erik nodded.

"Well we get more customers and sometimes they'll leave a good tip, which always helps, you know," She continued cheerily, "but it gets so busy and it leaves me with less time to do my videos which annoys the hell out of me cos I'm so tired after work."

Erik smiled, amused by her phrasing, and said, "Well then, I'll try not to keep you on your feet."

Christine turned, shocked, and stared at him, her mouth open. Erik didn't understand and Christine closed her mouth, seeming to think something, and tried to answer without smiling,

"So how's Nadir?" She asked, sitting up straighter, brushing some of her hair behind her ear, trying to be polite as she preoccupied herself. "I hope we didn't bore him to death, he didn't seem at all happy last night."

"Oh, he's alright, he just likes to complain." Erik answered, agreeing with her.

"Still, tell him I'm sorry his night didn't go as he planned. And that he didn't get to eat." She requested.

"I will." He promised. "So where else are you planning to go from here?"

For the whole journey, Erik asked her questions, getting to know her better as she spoke about her plans, her home life, her father, her work, her videos and everything else he could think to ask her about, anthing that hadn't been revealed in her videos. She asked to ask him things too, but some of them she had realized were too sensitive for him to talk about and would pass on her questions and let him ask another one. He had mentioned his masterpiece, Don Juan, an opera, he told her, and she had seemed impressed. He had completely forgotten about it the moment Christine crashed into his world, but now it seemed too dark for her, too full of lust and gluttony, that he was grateful when they promptly arrived at Battery Park City, towards the Islanders Docks, where the yacht awaited them.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing, I can't wait for more. I'm so overjoyed from all of the reviews. There's plenty more coming.**

**For the song at the top of the page, I really recommend listening to Celia Pavey's rendition of it, she;s a wonderful singer and I love her!**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**_Cutting Crew's 'I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight'_**

_Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight  
It must have been something you said,  
I just died in your arms tonight  
Oh I, I just died in your arms tonight  
It must have been some kind of kiss  
I should have walked away,_

_ I should have walked away._

* * *

Christine waited as Erik got into the seat beside her, optimistic for their day ahead and watched as he crumpled himself up against the door. She had been facing him, impatient for him to start talking to her. She was hoping that maybe he would take control of the conversation and just talk to her, as she had been the one wittering away the night before. She wanted to look at the driver to see if he could hear, but there was a window at the other end of the limo before her that suggested he couldn't hear anything. Erik confirmed this suspicion by reaching forward and pressing an intercom button to tell the driver to leave, which they did. Christine still waited, still staring at Erik, but he refused to speak, deciding to stare into his lap instead.

Christine frowned, and stared into her own lap. Did he not think they were private, or was it nerves? There were so many things she wanted to ask him about and tell him, but she felt so shy around him now, now that they weren't being supervised. She began to search through her bag, though she was fairly certain that he knew that she was just wasting time, giving him time to relax and adjust to the situation. It must have been very scary for him. She didn't understand, surely he had spent plenty of time around women? Or was the prospect of what was under the mask too scary for some women?

"Um, Erik, can we talk?" She had asked, tilting her head to get a better look at his hidden face.

He nodded so slightly, that she wasn't sure if she had actually caught it, as he stared into his lap, but she continued.

"Erik, please look at me." She asked, trying to be gentle with him.

He looked at her, and she wished she could have seen his face just to see any form of emotion from him. He was so closed off from her, it was annoying her that she couldn't tell what he was thinking. She turned in her seat to face him suddenly, and she could see him tense up again. She wanted to grit her teeth. He was so scared of her presence that he couldn't see her for a normal person, which was ironic once she thought about it. She wanted him to unwind and just _talk_ to her.

"Erik." She stopped herself in time. She needed to be delicate with him, he wasn't just any person, and they hardly knew each other. It wasn't her place to say anything other than _support_ him. ""I guess you've seen us in the newspapers and on TV, huh?"

She wondered what he had made of it. He must have been upset, but he only nodded again and allowed her to continue.

"I didn't think they'd overreact so much, I didn't think they'd find where I was staying either. They were hanging about at the front of the hotel, waiting for me. I'm sorry Erik, but I just embarrassed myself in front of them." She said, wondering what Meg had thought. She must have been watching her after all.

"Why should _you_ apologize? _They're_ the ones that are following you." Erik stated, clearly disgusted with them.

"Well, I know that, but it kind of reflects on you, doesn't it? After all, you're the celebrity. And I'm the attention seeking tourist." She replied, feeling sour as she thought of the news reports again.

"I don't think you're attention seeking." Erik said softly.

"Thanks, I wasn't exactly sure _what_ you thought of me. I'm glad we're alone so we can talk about this." She didn't want to admit just how glad she was to him.

"I hope you weren't too offended by the media's portrayal of you." He asked politely, trying to read her face as his head bobbed in front of her vision so he could get a better look at her.

"Well, I doubt they could embarrass me any more than I did myself last night. Some of my subscribers couldn't believe it, one of them had even been in the crowd too and saw everything, and apparently he burst out into laughter. " She said, smiling stupidly as she remembered going through her messages.

"So you talk to your viewers on a regular basis?" Erik asked.

"Yeah, they're pretty cool, and pretty understanding. There are some that I get on with really well, you know? They're just so supportive and they want to really discuss my videos with me." She rolled her eyes as she thought of some of the comments she received on an almost daily basis. "Then you get the people who just comment on stupid things. Which is great, they're involved, but I'd like an actual conversation, you know?"

Erik nodded.

"So, um, how do we … I mean, like, how do we respond to the media?" She was hoping she wasn't looking as timid as she felt. "They're kind of just doing their job, you know, but at the same time, I want our time to be private."

"Our time?" He had asked, in delighted shock. He looked like he was going to burst out of his seat.

Christine blushed. "Yes, _our_ time."

Erik turned in his seat, holding the car door handle looser than before now. "You think this will happen again?"

"Well, if you want." She said, shrugging. She was trying to be carefree, but it was really hard when Erik was being so difficult to talk to. Maybe he was concerned about his work? "I know you're a busy man, and you've got better things to do than entertain a tourist."

"I want to," He said, interrupting her. He turned to look at her. "Only if you want to."

Christine buried her face in her hands, laughing. This was getting ridiculous! How much longer was he going to play the shy and confused role in front of her? Were her actions not proof that she enjoyed his company? Was she not flirting hard enough with him? He was so oblivious to her, while being totally obsessed with her. It was maddening.

"You really are _shy_, aren't you? How many times am I gonna have to hint to you that I do want the same thing as you?" She asked, pulling her hands away to show Erik she was smiling.

"Christine, I do not think-"

"Then don't think! Just do whatever feels comfortable to you. I don't want you doing something because you think it will make me happy, I want you to just relax and unwind with me." She said, taking Erik's gloved hand. It was odd, not even being able to hold his bare hand. He didn't move, and she tried to rub some life into his thick gloves, watching their hands. He didn't seem opposed to her taking the lead, but maybe he was still unsure of her feelings? Maybe he really did think she was just after him for his money and fame. She tried not to let it affect her next few words. "You want to hang out with me too, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"And Nadir told me that you like me. I like you too. I know you don't like cameras or people. So let's just like each other and enjoy today. I just want to get to know you, Erik." She told him, leaning in close, trying to prompt him to do something about it.

Images filled her mind as she thought about letting him take her into his arms and just holding her. She thought of the hug she could have given him the night before, and how close they had been, had it not been for Erik's nerves. She wondered if he had seen the other guest's faces when they had been laughing at him as he ran back to her side, and if that was the reason why he hadn't hugged her. It made her sad to think that.

Erik squeezed back her hand. "Thank you. I would enjoy that."

"And as for the press, forget about them, just pretend I didn't mention it." She said, disheartened with her new thoughts, and tried to change the conversation. "Oh hey, the weather is just so amazing over here. It's so warm; I've even got some sun lotion on, I haven't gotten to wear sun lotion in years!"

She told him more about her work, which was boring, but Erik seemed fascinated, the same as last night when she had brought it up. She told him the story behind the name, 'Edward's Bright Idea', about how the owner, her boss Edward, had been stuck on a good, original theme for the café, and how he was constantly coming up with ideas, such as a musical based café, or a café with an underwater theme, or an overly British cafe. Everyone began calling them his 'bright ideas' when he couldn't pick between the hundreds of concepts he had, when he decided to just go for all of them. He decorated the café with colorful, intricate drawings, after he had painted chalkboard paint all over the walls. There were tubs of chalk about, where customers could come up with their own ideas, covering a broad range of topics, and every morning, Christine was allowed to draw in chalk an item for people to try and reinvent. Once, she had drawn a teapot with the British flag on, and people had gone crazy for it, drawing their own themed teapots. There had been one designed to look like a lion like the ones in Trafalgar Square, and another which looked like the Queen. She had been impressed by them all, and day after day, she would photograph them, occasionally showing them on her channel. A lot of people had fun. There was a blank wall where they had a plaque that asked for people to draw their own backdrops so they could take a photo while they waited for their meal. Most people just drew hearts or wrote something funny. It was a fun environment, and true, it was a boring place to Christine, but that was _only_ because she was the one who had to deal with the customers. It wasn't all fun and games. Everyone else seemed to love it though, and she was happy to let them enjoy it.

During their conversation, Christine could see Erik loosen up in front of her. He seemed to be more involved now, ready to ask questions and answer some of his own. She had asked about his mum and dad, but he only shook his head as he looked out of the window. She had tried to ask about how he met Nadir, but Erik was tight lipped about that too. It was infuriating, watching as he asked _her_ questions, but the instant it turned to _him_ there was no prying those answers out of him. She shrugged it off mentally. It was only their first day together, of course he wouldn't be too comfortable talking about himself.

For the rest of the journey, Christine consoled herself with just being close to him. It was nice, just sitting beside him, watching New York pass by outside. Christine remembered when she had gotten into the limo which would take her to the awards show. It had felt like a cage then. Looking at Erik, she was happy to find that it didn't feel that way anymore. She admired Erik's figure, staring at each crease in his clothes, but then realized that they were both about to get on a yacht, and he was wearing black trousers and a white top, with formal shoes and a jacket.

"Aren't you going to be hot in that?" She asked, pinching his jacket sleeve so he was sure she meant his clothes. She had learnt her mistake last night.

"I'll be fine, Christine. Don't worry about me. I just want you to enjoy yourself." He replied fondly, taking the hand that pinched his clothes hesitantly. Once he saw she wasn't pulling away, he relaxed again, holding her hand against his shoulder, close to his heart.

Christine watched, breathing heavily as he surrounded her hand with his fingers, and squeezed her hand. She could feel the heat getting to her, and she felt as though Erik was squeezing her heart in much the same way he squeezed her hand. It was so remarkably good, even if she could only feel his gloves. She tried to imagine the hands inside them and found she couldn't without blushing. She flexed her fingers, encouraging him to do so, and she quickly snuck her fingers in-between his, so he was forced to hold her hand properly. She smiled as their hands dropped down into the space between them, and they stared at each other. Her eyes roamed the mask as she tried giving her best and most endearing smile. He stroked her thumb, evidently his way of telling her he was happy that she had taken the initiative.

"Sir, we have arrived." The driver told them through the intercom.

Christine hadn't even realized they had stopped moving. She looked out of the window, slightly tinted so they could have their privacy, and looked around.

"I suppose we have better get out then." She said, returning her gaze to their hands.

Erik sighed, withdrawing his hand ever so slowly. "Yes, back to the real world."

They got out, and Christine thanked the driver, waving at him as Erik held his arm around her back without touching her, trying to direct her over to the entrance. Christine had grinned as the driver smirked at her, nodding slightly, and she turned to follow Erik, but he had already set off, and Christine tried to keep up with him as he led her past a few boats down a wooden deck. It appeared they were approaching the two men who were sitting having come coffee in front of a large white yacht with two separate decks. Christine shyly stood behind Erik, his tall figure veiling the men in shadow as they stopped before them. Christine admired the boat the two men were seated in front of. It was nice, but she just didn't get it. It was a yacht, which still seemed a pretty cool thing to say, but just because it looked fancy didn't mean anything to her. It didn't even have sails, which was what she had been hoping for; because that meant it would have been a sailing yacht, not a motor yacht, which meant a difference in privacy. The yacht had the upper deck for the captain to resume, which left Erik and her more time to focus on each other, but it still meant that Captain would be there and he would see everything once they were on the deck. Unless they kept inside on the main deck, which she hoped they wouldn't, or she'd never see the statue. Christine _was_ curious however as to whether they had anything to eat on board. She had completely forgotten about breakfast. Maybe she should have asked Erik to let her grab a few things from the hotel dining room before they set off.

Christine stepped closer to Erik, holding her hands in front of her as she smiled to both of the men. They were sitting opposite each other, and they must have been in conversation when both Erik and Christine arrived. The one on the right was an elderly man, with a thick mustache and a thicker beard, dressed in simple clothing. The man on the left was younger, fairer faced and seemed to recognize the both of them. They were engrossed with Erik, and stared in amazement as Erik spoke.

"I phoned earlier to rent a yacht. Is one of you the captain?" He asked, his voice turning surprisingly fluid and reassuring, despite how restrained he looked. It was as though he was trying to hold himself back from doing something he'd regret. Christine couldn't blame him, interacting with new people didn't seem like one of his fortes.

"Yes, that would be me." The man on the right answered in a gruff American accent, standing up slowly as he tried to ease his muscles, his eyes darting between Christine and Erik. "You're Mr Destler, correct? I was told you wanted privacy, especially from any cameras, and I can reassure you that-"

"There's no need for reassurances, Mr Lapps," Erik interrupted. "You were recommended to me by someone I trust. All I ask is that you keep to yourself, and tell no-one of Miss Daae's and my conversation, or of our time here. "

Mr Lapps, as Erik had called him, turned to look at Christine. She bit her lip and nodded. "Hi."

He shrugged as he told Christine pointedly, "As long as you realize that there's no keeping them lot from you if they should find us. You might find this to be a short trip."

"I don't care." She told him. "As long as I'm with Erik, it doesn't matter, but please, we _do_ want our privacy, so if there's anything you can do to keep them from seeing us, I would _deeply_ appreciate it."

Mr Lapps nodded in agreement and threw his hands up as he sighed, turning to the other man. "Alright John, buzz off. I'm busy."

John agreed, taking a final sip of his coffee. "Alright. You want me to get onto the schooner we got this morning?"

Mr Lapps nodded. "Sure, do the guest rooms first, they've built up far too much ingrained dirt. And remember to grab the right tools, last time it was a right mess." He turned to Christine and Erik as John sauntered off cheekily. "I'm sorry, why don't the both of you board and then we'll set sail."

Erik had turned to Christine and offered his arm. "Christine?"

She grinned, taking his arm once more as they began to walk around the boat to where they could step on easily. Erik took her hand, gaining more confidence as he stepped onto the boat first, making it gently rock. She held his hand tighter, and sighed,

"You'd think that I'd done enough falling on you for now," She said, without adding '_And for you, too'._

"I won't let you fall." He told her, and deftly pulled her on board, stepping a cautionary step back so she didn't stumble into him, and took her other hand.

Christine stood before him, letting him hold her fingertips, and she bowed her head, admiring their hands. He stared in amazement, bringing them closer to his face. Christine giggled, bringing her head close in too. She had never felt so complete, so whole around a person. She had never wanted to just protect someone, and after being such a solitary person, meeting Erik was like drinking wine after wishing for water.

Mr Lapps appeared, and after observing them together, quickly stepped in-between them, coughing as he did so, which made Christine blush and pull away so that he could climb up onto the upper deck, which was where he was able to steer the boat. Erik clearly hadn't been amused by the man's action, but he allowed it as Christine stepped back closer to Erik.

"I've told them to prepare you a hamper." He told her, stepping into the dining room. "I hope it is adequate."

"Oh Erik, really? Thank you, you're so thoughtful." She said, stepping in after him, looking around her. "I didn't want to ask if there was any food, but I am hungry. I should have grabbed something back at the hotel but I completely forgot."

It was modest, plenty of room for them to walk about. There was a table, with a seat that was made into the wall, like a booth. On the table, there was a brown wicker basket, with a large red napkin on top, which made Christine smile as Erik went to stand beside it, and pulled off the napkin like a magician revealing a trick, to reveal an assortment of different foods. Excitedly, he began pointing out the different foods to her, much like the five year old Christine had compared herself to earlier, and she walked to stand beside him, laughing with him as he held up a small pie.

"Is that a pork pie?" She had asked, giggling as she took it from him.

"Yes! I asked that they bring a mix of both English and American food for you so you can pick. Do you like it?"

"I _love_ it." She said after moving aside some Hershey's chocolate, reaching into the basket to pull out a small cereal packet. "Oh my god, they even got us this!"

It was a box of Cap'n Crunch, and she held it excitedly in her hand, turning the box over to look at it. "Man, this is so cool."

Erik laughed. "Shall I get you some milk?"

"Yes, please." She answered, looking around for a bowl.

"I'll do it; you can seat yourself, if you like. We'll be leaving shortly."

"Okay." Christine said, seating herself in the booth as she watched the light stream into the cabin from behind Erik, giving him a strange, haloed effect. He looked ethereal, and he moved so swiftly and lithely, he was like a spirit or a ghost. She watched him, resting her chin on her hand as she rested against the table. Erik lifted the milk from inside the fridge, and handed it to her, immediately searching through the cupboards for a bowl and spoon for her, placing them beside her as she began to pour in the cereal and the milk. She dug in once Erik gave her a spoon, and she munched on the cereal, delighted with it.

"You know, I haven't had a kid's cereal in _ages_." She said, distracted as she loaded her spoon up again. "These are nice, I like them."

"I've never had them before." He told her with a half shrug. "I tend to keep to pastries and freshly made food when I have breakfast."

"That must be so pleasant to wake up to everyday." She said, thinking of her own mornings back home. She was usually in a rush. "I try to grab some dry toast before I leave for work, with butter if I have the time." She said cheerily. "My dad used to make us smörgåsar for breakfast before he died. It's an open sandwich, _kind_ of, but it wasn't like the stuff we had back in Sweden. I can't blame him though, everything changed once we moved to England."

Erik nodded, allowing her to continue, placing his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the cupboards, his back to the ocean as he faced her.

"But I guess now that I've been raised in England, I've just gotten so used to _his_ way of making it, that I probably wouldn't even like the professional stuff they'd have back in Sweden. They wouldn't have the same ingredients, I guess. Or any of the memories attached."

The yacht started up, and Christine looked up and out of the windows as they pulled away from the bay. Erik followed her gaze and pointed at the small figure in the distance.

"It's just there. We're heading slightly towards it, keeping to the left. There's more open water there, and we won't be disturbed." He told her as her eyes focused on the slowly approaching island. It was tiny, so far away, that she was relieved. It meant more time talking to Erik.

"Alright." She turned back to her cereal, scraping the last few pieces of cereal onto her spoon and into her mouth. Once she had finished, she wiped her face with the napkin and stood up, joining him beside the cupboard.

She leaned against it, their arms brushing as she asked,

"You really think that we won't be disturbed? There's always the chance that they followed us from the hotel."

"I don't doubt that they will have tried, but I have had many years training in evading the press, so please trust me when I say that we are completely alone."

"Well, apart from Mr Lapps." She joked. "It seems like we're never actually alone."

Hesitantly, she leaned into Erik, her hair falling into the cracks they created between them. He stiffened, but relaxed as the yacht continued to race along the water at tremendous speed, and tried to casually hide his arm moving around her back to sit on the countertop behind her. She took the lead, her head bowed, as she leaned further into him. He liked it, shivering once her arm was pressed against his sides, and Christine could feel his heart race rapidly through his shirt. He was so wound up; trying to anticipate her every move as the boat sped up, making them very unsure of their footing. Erik looked down at her, as she brushed some of her loose hair from her face.

"Christine, I wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself," Erik began. "I would very much like to …"

Christine turned her head up.

He looked away, and his heartbeat faltered for a moment. He turned back a second later, and asked in a calm, emotionless tone, "May I hold you?"

"_Yes_." She had said eagerly, pressing herself further into his body. His shirt encased her, and Christine thought of her pillow back at her hotel, which she had propped up on her chair before putting her shoes on.

He had leapt at the opportunity, and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, if it had been possible. She had gasped, and shuffled about (to his confusion and delight) so that her arm now meandered along his back and rested on his hip. She was turned into Erik, and took a few breaths, happy with herself as they began to mold together. She was so tempted to just rest her head on his shoulder, but maybe even that was going too far between normal people.

"There we go." She said, focusing on Erik's arm around her. He was staring down at her, his other arm fidgeting quite terribly, but he ended up just trying to hold the both of them up against the counter.

"Are you happy, Christine?" He asked.

"Yes." She answered, nodding. "Very."

"Good."

"Are you?"

"I am the happiest person in the world now that I finally have you in my arms."

Christine looked up, and they stared at each other in silence, the unspoken bond between them growing thicker.

"I'm sorry, that was forward of me."

"Not at all. I like being in your arms. It feels safe." She told him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

Erik's heart raced again, and she smiled, pulling her face away to look at him. "Do you want to sit on the deck with me? We're getting pretty close now. I can see her torch!"

"Sure." He answered dreamily as she took his hand and led them onto the wood panelled open air deck, where two lounge seats were waiting for them. "You know, her name is Libertas, she was named after the Roman Goddess of Freedom."

"_Really_? I didn't know she had even had a name, I just figured everyone called her the Statue of Liberty." Christine said, seating herself in the right most chair, still holding Erik's hand as he seated himself as well, moving his chair closer to hers. "I do know that she was built in Paris, and her head was on show at the World Fair there. I read that in a pamphlet on the airplane over here."

"Then tell me what else you know." He sighed happily, reclining in his seat as Christine began to animatedly tell him everything she had read about New York, her arm waving about in grand gestures as they continued to hold hands.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been AWESOME. I'm so overjoyed from all of the follows as well! Hi there guys! There's plenty more coming, so thanks for all of your patience. Xx**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**_Pink's 'Try'_**

_Where there is desire_  
_There is gonna be a flame_  
_Where there is a flame_  
_Someone's bound to get burned_  
_But just because it burns_  
_Doesn't mean you're gonna die_  
_You've gotta get up and try, and try, and try_

* * *

When Erik got into his seat, he had no idea what would happen to him next. It had been magical, every touch, every smile, every extravagant arm gesture, her words and her sweet disposition flew him straight to cloud nine, and he had been dazed by her, being bold enough to hold her hand. She had let him, _him_, of all people do it. He hadn't dared breath, he did not want to break the spell, he did not want Christine to suddenly wake from whatever daydream she must have been having to jerk her hand away from him and cry. So he sat and watched her, letting their hands drop, as he admired the light hitting her eyes. Of all the people in the world for God to give to him, it had to have been her. They were meant for each other, he was sure, but he had no clue to her innermost thoughts. She was not spurning his actions, and she allowed him to hold his hand, but it did not mean she was happy. Erik had no idea if her actions meant she held tender feelings for him, but her words about it just being their day together pleased him immensely. He had plenty in store for her to keep her entertained, he hoped, and he wanted to impress her. When they had arrived, the both of them hadn't even realized the limousine had stopped. Christine had snapped back into reality, looking around her and taking the view in, still holding his hand.

"I suppose we have better get out then." She said, looking back at their hands sadly.

Erik sighed, wanting nothing more than to just take his mask off and pull out his hair. For a few minutes, he had felt as though he was flying, and now he had come crashing to the ground.

"Yes, back to the real world."

Erik turned away gloomily, opening his car door as he prepared himself for the next social interaction of the day, which was to meet the captain of the yacht he had hired, and he was not looking forward to it. It would be the first time that Christine would see his ability to blend into the background, and to appear as normal as any person, and in front of a complete stranger. He would try his hardest not to lose his temper in front of her, he didn't want to ruin what had been a kind-hearted moment. As Christine joined his side, she turned to wave to the driver, who had poked his head out to watch the both of them. Erik tried to bring her away, but was forced to wait impatiently as the driver responded, and he let his arm hover around her frame. He pretended that he was holding her.

Christine turned, and Erik quickly turned on his heel, embarrassed in case Christine had seen him do such a thing. He sped off, listening as Christine quickly followed behind him, and they soon approached the yacht, with two men resting on the dock in two chairs, having coffee. Erik took control and led the conversation, wanting to appear strong for Christine. After having spoken with them, with notable restraint, Erik was proud to say, the man who introduced himself as the Captain stood up, with a look of recognition in his eyes. Erik knew he could trust him, and his company. Nadir had spoken to him about this man before, having used him to entertain a few girls himself. Erik felt shame in thinking about Nadir's activities, and hoped that Mr Lapps would show discretion in front of Christine.

Showing Christine over to the yacht had been the most nervous he had possibly been in his life. Erik got to hold her close to him again, her fingertips brushing against his wrist. He had stepped onto the boat, still holding her hand, and she looked up at him bemused.

"You'd think that I'd done enough falling on you for now," She said.

"I won't let you fall." He told her, thinking that it was he who had done the falling. He had pulled her on board, but instinctively stepped back, instantly regretting it, as it meant that she would have stumbled into him, another chance to be intimate with her. But she would not have liked it. She would have been upset if she knew he was harboring such thoughts. Christine stood on the tips of her toes, letting Erik hold her fingertips. She bowed her head, after watching him bring her fingers closer to his face. He might not have been able to tell what she was thinking, but he knew that Christine was happy enough to let him rub his thumb across her fingertips, noting the softness of them. Meeting Christine had been, exemplary, breathtaking, and above all frightening, but he could feel the bond between them grow thicker and more resilient with every bold step he took. He had nearly bitten off the Captain's head when he stepped on board, and quite deliberately between Christine and himself. It was perhaps a sign that they should hold off from being more intimate until they were out at sea.

Erik had shown her the hamper he had ordered for her adding a bit of a show as he revealed with a flourish her food, wishing he had added a significant tip to Mr Lapp's payment as Christine delightedly stepped forward, clearly happy. He had felt proud as he caught her glance when she noticed what was in his hand.

"Is that a pork pie?" She asked, giggling with delight as she took it from him.

"Yes! I asked that they bring a mix of both English and American food for you so you can pick. Do you like it?"

"I _love_ it." She said after moving aside something to reach into the back and revealed a small cereal packet. "Oh my god, they even got us _this_!"

He was too excited to notice her choice of words. It was her reaction to the Cap'n Crunch, an American cereal that he had never tried before, and she held it excitedly in her hand, turning the box over to look at it. "Man, this is so cool."

Erik laughed. "Shall I get you some milk?"

"Yes, please." She answered, turning in her spot as she began to check the rest of the yacht.

"I'll do it, you can seat yourself, if you like. We'll be leaving shortly." Erik said.

"Okay." Christine answered, and sat herself down, watching him.

Erik began to scour the room looking for some bowls and cutlery, fully aware that Christine was admiring his form, though he had no idea why. He was not particularly fit, he was just tall and gangly, like the skeleton he was, and he began to question if that was how Christine saw him. He had not put much thought into his appearance, his clothes were not particularly appealing, or fashionable. The only thing of interest was his mask, but Erik could see that the mask wasn't what she was looking at. They talked casually, and Erik felt bolder as Christine began to effortlessly become herself, revealing her to be a normal, thoughtful girl. She was affectionate and sweet, and so spontaneous around him. He marvelled at her, wondering if other people were like this. He had pointed out the Statue of Liberty to her, planted in the center of the horizon. She noted it, and finished her cereal. Christine stood up, and nonchalantly joined his side, her body radiating warmth and eagerness.

Erik had watched, transfixed as Christine allowed him to stay by her side. He was terrified, but his boldness struck him, daring him to put his arm around her back. He had done it as slowly as he could manage, trying not to get her attention. He didn't know what she would say if she saw him, or what she would do. He did it, panting beneath his mask, feeling his adrenaline kick in as she intuitively leaned into his side. He could feel his heart flutter, and he wanted to close his eyes and keep the moment fresh in his memory. He could only try to improvise as the boat sped up, and Christine was so close to falling into him again.

"Christine, I wouldn't want you to trip and hurt yourself," Erik started, thinking of her comfort. "I would very much like to …"

Christine turned her head up. He hadn't known how to continue, her eyes made him forget his words. He looked away, feeling so low as he considered what he was about to ask her. He shouldn't have even considered it, but he wanted it so badly. He turned back, and asked as calmly as he could, "May I hold you?"

"Yes." She had replied instantly, excitedly as she melted into him, thrilled beyond words as she returned his gesture by hugging his waist, her arm comfortably pinned down by his.

Erik had mentally thrown up his arms and praised the world, exulted in the fact that Christine seemed so content with him, so at ease and so _real_. She wasn't afraid of him. _She wasn't_. She had seen him in a way that suggested that she didn't see him as anything but another man, walking the earth, and not as a dark figure. She was peeking into his heart, pulling back as the covers, breaking his defenses as easily as he had fallen for her.

"Are you happy, Christine?" He asked, engrossed by her warm body.

"Yes." She answered, nodding. "Very."

"Good."

"Are you?"

"I am the happiest person in the world now that I finally have you in my arms." He slipped, distracted by her answer.

He felt he had been struck by lightning by the look on her face when she heard him. Christine was staring at him, clearly shocked by his words.

"I'm sorry, that was forward of me."

"Not at all. I like being in your arms. It feels safe." She told him, resting her cheek against his shoulder, sending him into pure bliss.

He couldn't remember what happened next. All he knew was that Christine was asking him something as she took his hand, and he had answered in the affirmative, following her as though he was a dog on a lead following his master as she led them onto the deck. He had pulled their chairs closer, believing he was in a dream as he followed their conversation. They had begun talking about the Statue of Liberty, which was now facing them, close enough that they could make out people on the grass, while not so close that people could easily snap pictures of them. There were several boats around, and Erik inspected them all, and the people on them. They seemed like tourists. Christine carried on talking, enough for the both of them, cheerily describing everything she had learned about New York for her trip, and asked him plenty of questions. He had answered them, supplying some facts that she didn't know. Soon, she was kicking off her shoes, and he saw her feet flex as she said,

"I'm just going to stick my feet in."

She did so, standing up and then sitting down on the edge of the deck. She stuck her feet in, moaning happily as she kicked her feet, leaning back with her hands on either side of her to hold her up. Erik watched, leaning forward as he rested his arm on his elbows. Christine was happy, he reminded himself. She was happy with him, and she didn't want to leave his side.

Erik scanned the horizon again, thinking he saw a glint, but dismissed it as Christine turned and pointed to her bag, which Erik had carried through for her, and asked,

"Would it be alright if I grabbed some video clips? For my vlogs?"

Erik had felt like crumbling into a thousand pieces, but had acquiesced, watching as she reached into her bag a pulled out a small, black, handheld digital camera that she switched on. She adjusted herself in her seat, turning her back to the statue and aimed the camera towards her. She took a test shot, and reviewed it, not happy with the outcome. She tried again, holding the camera out from her body further as she performed another test shot. Erik only watched her, burying his feelings about cameras deep down so she could enjoy her day. He had to remind himself, Christine had her own life outside of this place, this time, and he needed to be respectful. Finally, she began her video. She was waving into the camera, smiling happily as she kept gesturing to her shoulder, smiling down at it as her hand came up and pretended to rub something in midair. She stopped, reviewing the footage as Erik asked her,

"What were you doing?"

"Oh, I was trying to make it look as though the statue was standing on my shoulder."

Erik laughed. "And you were stroking her head?"

"No, I was trying to flick her off." She replied, grinning.

They both of them laughed, the tension between them melted.

"You know, I'm really happy I came now. I was so doubtful at first." She said, putting away her camera.

"With me?" He asked, stricken. What was it he had missed?

"No, to America." She turned back to look at the Statue of Liberty.

"I'm glad you came too." Erik said, nodding. "My life has been enriched by your presence."

Christine turned to stare at him, sitting up as she knelt on the edge of the deck. "I feel the same way," She continued, feeling brave enough to say, "You know, Erik, my life has been so unpredictable. It's just been like, like I've been tripping on all of these pebbles, and I just don't see them coming. There are no signs to tell me if what I'm doing is right, and I don't have anyone with me to guide me. My life was ruined when my father died. He was everything to me. If people were a fire, then he would have been a blaze. I was just a struck match compared to him. I'll never be anything like he was."

She stared down into the water sadly, and Erik wanted to reach out to her. "I like you the way you are. I do not wish for you to change. And I think you are a blaze in your own right."

She turned to face him, squinting against the sunlight. "And I like you the way you are too. And I think _he_ would have liked you, too. Which is why I think we met. I think he sent you to me. I think he gave you to me because now there are no more pebbles. It was like you found me, and showed me the path ahead. I can see it clearly now."

Christine paused, trying to gage his reaction as she finished. He hadn't known how to respond. Erik had been touched by her words, feeling the same way. _She_ was convinced_ as well_ that their meeting had not been a coincidence and that some strange force had brought them together. Her words meant everything to him, as it only confirmed her actions towards him.

She turned back to the water, sighing to herself as she stuck her legs back into the water. They stared in silence at the Statue of Liberty, until Christine sighed again and drew her legs out of the water, and grabbing a nearby towel to dry off her legs and her feet.

"I hope that is true." Erik said at last. "I feel very protective of you, Christine. I feel as though we were meant to meet. I think I was meant to guide you to greatness." He said, determined to see her a star as boldness struck him once more.

She would crack the earth in half with her voice, and her beauty would make men tremble, if only she allowed him to teach her, to guide her in her way onto the stage. He could see it as clearly as she saw her path. But she had not said what her path was. She had only said that she saw him on it.

"Greatness?" She asked, surprised, her knees drawn to her chest as she focused on drying her toes. "_What_ greatness?"

"Christine, how do you _feel_ about singing?" He asked.

Christine stopped drying her feet. She stared off into space. "Please don't ask me that." She whispered as she turned away from him.

He felt the loss between him, and regretted his words, but continued, as she needed to see the truth.

"Christine, your voice… It is a gift from heaven. You are a strong singer, with power and truth in your singing, but your emotions cloud your talents. You're too overcome with fear and grief. You need a teacher, to guide you. You need me to-"

She whipped around, tears streaming down her face as she told him stoically, "Erik, I can't. I'm sorry, but my voice died with that song. It was my last farewell to him. I was saying goodbye to the pain he left me with. I was angry, _so angry_ at him; I couldn't forgive him for leaving me alone. I know it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it, but I died with him. I was alone for so long, and the only thing that got me out of bed every morning was the drive to make my videos. They saved me, Erik. I swore never to sing again. I just can't, it reminds me of him too much."

Erik flinched, drawing back into his seat as he stared in horror as she sat motionlessly. She had turned into a zombie before his very eyes. Flashes of his mother's numb, emotionless face came flooding back to him, and he struggled to remain in his seat while Christine sobered up. She sniffed, and sat herself up, straighter.

"I'm sorry Erik, I didn't mean to disappoint you." She rubbed her cheeks. "I just need time, that's all."

"It's quite alright, Christine." Erik said gently, leaning forward again, relieved she was back to him. "We don't have to talk about it."

"I'm sorry." She apologized again.

"Christine?"

She looked up, trying to put on a brave face.

"Do you want me to hold you again?" He asked bravely, keeping in mind that what she needed was support, not for him to lust over her.

She nodded quietly, and took his hand as he helped her crawl forward. She wrapped her tiny arms around his body, pulling him to her as she hugged him. He was leaning forward in his seat, as far as his body would take him as he held her back, her face buried in the crook of his neck as she knelt before him. Erik sat in silence, wanting to revel in the present he had received from her, but was trying to focus on Christine and her emotional state. This was not about him, it was about comforting _her_. She was so forward, eagerly seeking his hand or his embrace, but he liked it. Were other women like this? So attached and insecure? Seeking for comfort wherever they could find it? Was she just lost, struggling to cope with life? She now seemed so defeated, and she had once been so strong, so confident. It was decided then. He would never bring about her singing again.

"Christine." He whispered, hoping that his now-returned attention to her form wouldn't inspire anything in him.

"Yes?"

"I will protect you."

"From?"

"Everything. I will stand for you, and I'll remove those pebbles. We'll use them as skipping stones and forget about the world." He said, slyly pressing his face into her hair, breathing her in. "This is our day. Just you and me. We can talk about anything you want. I will help you through what problems you have and hope you will never see any more. I-"

"Mr Destler!"

Both Christine and Erik look up, shocked and amazed as Captain Lapps leant over the edge of the upper deck and pointed out to the water, shouting, "They're here!"

They all looked out to a boat with sails, where they all watched as something glinted in the sunlight.

"_Oh god_." Christine cried, burying her face in her hands. She looked up suddenly, and asked, "Did they get everything?"

Erik could only feel pure, searing hot rage as he pulled Christine sharply up onto her feet to stand darkly on the deck, glaring at the boat that dipped in the distance. Christine gave a sharp cry, wincing as he released her speedily. He hadn't realized that he had been squeezing her so hard.

"Christine, I'm so... I'm so sorry."

"It's just sensitive, from the sun." She said defensively.

Christine cradled her arm to her body, her hand covering the spreading red blush halfway up her forearm. She looked crushed, staring at him as she once again looked close to tears.

"Erik?" She asked quietly.

He stepped forward, taking her shoulders gently as he swore. "Christine, forgive me. It was not you I was angry at, and I should not have taken it out on you. Please, Christine, don't cry."

Christine sniffed, dropping her arms. "I'm not, but can we go? Please, I don't want them to ruin it anymore."

Erik agreed and sharply turned to look up at Captain Lapp, but he had gone. "Captain Lapps, get us out of here!"

"_Already on it, Sir_." Captain Lapp called back, and the boat started, turning back towards the docks, and began sprinting along the water as Christine and Erik re-entered the yacht, the both of them looking and feeling the worst for actions that hadn't been caused intentionally. They stumbled about the room, feeling disoriented as they held onto sideboards and countertops.

"We both know what they're going to say." Christine said, sniffling as she walked over to the hamper.

"We don't know if they saw anything. Or even if it was them." He tried to explain, wishing that the foul air between them would clear.

"And what if it was? Then in about an hour everyone is going to know about how we spent the day together, and with the tabloids already printing stories about us! What is everyone going to think of me?" She said, turning around to face Erik, leaning against the table.

Erik didn't like this. He was hurt by her words. "Christine, I won't let them print anything-"

"There's no point!" She said, throwing her arms out in a gesture of tiredness. "They're always going to follow us. And they'll make up wild stories and gossip about us. Everyone will think we're sleeping together, and our reputations will be ruined."

Erik shook his head. "So what are you saying?"

Christine held her arms, walking over to him, calmly now, more decisive as she said, "I think, if there is anything between us, anything that we don't want to hide, then we need to come out and say it."

"Say what?"

Christine looked up, more spark in her eyes as she asked, "Erik. We're so wild, two extremes. They can see it, so can Nadir, and so can I. You're the only person who refuses the see the truth."

What truth was she speaking of?

"I don't understand." He told her. "Are you angry at me?"

She laughed, which made him feel better. "_No_. No, we're just in a stressful situation. I know you didn't mean it. But Erik, I know how you _feel_."

Erik fidgeted, his brain trying to suggest to him that she was aware of his inner thoughts and emotions, but he was trying to burn it from his mind.

"You see, I know that it has only been a day, we don't even know each other, but I _need_ to know-" Christine continued.

"I need to know as well." He said, bursting in. "But are you suggesting that we tell the media everything? That we reveal everything we've talked about, everything we've done? This was our day, to just forget about them."

She looked at him. "But they haven't forgotten about us. I'm not afraid of them, Erik. They can say anything they want about me. I know my feelings, and I know yours. But they will turn on this so quickly. They'll destroy anything and everything between us."

"I'm glad you're not afraid." Erik told her. "But there's only so much I can do to keep them from you, Christine. I won't let them destroy us. I'm sorry that I've ruined your vacation."

Christine chortled. "It's not been ruined. It's been relieving. I feel better for having told you about my father. I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"You haven't." Erik answered. "But it was my fault; I should never have brought up your voice."

She turned to face him, a sad, distant smile on her face that seemed optimistic, in Erik's eyes. "No, it was good that you did. Maybe now that I have said goodbye to him, I can move on. It's been too long since he passed; I shouldn't still be clinging to him after so long." She looked up at him.

"Thank you, Erik. You've been so kind to me, and I know you've tried your hardest today. I just wish we could be alone. _Really_ alone, I mean."

Erik smiled to himself as he said, "I have an idea."

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been AWESOME. I'm so overjoyed from all of the follows as well! Hi there guys! There's plenty more coming, so thanks for all of your patience. Xx**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Brid****git**** Mendlers's 'Ready or Not'**

_Hello my name is... (Bridgit)_  
_Nice to meet you_  
_I think you're famous_  
_Where have I seen you?_  
_You'll be my William, I'll be your Kate_  
_Livin' like a fairytale_  
_We could have a palace right next to Oprah_  
_37 cars and a yacht down in Boca_  
_Take me away wherever you say_  
_Yeah we could be setting sail_

_Like ohh ohh ohh_  
_Light my heart up baby like a matchstick_  
_Ohh ohh ohh_  
_And hit the gas quick_

* * *

Christine's day, by the end, had left her reeling from a whirlpool of different emotions. There were no words to describe the turmoil she felt at having spent the day with Erik. After they had admired the Statue of Liberty, things had suddenly swung into action as old feelings and new surprises took them both by the arms and forced them to see each other in a new light. They had been sitting on the deck, talking happily, until things turned sour. Christine hadn't intended for the conversation to go that way at all, she was only trying to explain in terms that Erik could understand how much she treasured his company, and she was going to follow that up with how she wasn't the saint he believed her to be, but it turned out to be mostly about how she believed her father gave Erik to her. But then Erik spoke with words full of fire, much brighter than her father's flame, but they were not the words that she wanted to hear.

She had turned away from him, hurt by his words as she remembered her father's last words to her. '_Alright, Christine, we will practice tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight_'. But she never saw him again. He had passed away in his sleep, and she had discovered him the next morning, to her horror, as she stood in the doorway in her pyjamas, holding a glass of water. The doctors told her that his lungs at given up slowly, and he had passed away peacefully, but that wasn't the way _she_ felt about his passing. She was angry and depressed, moving through life like a dream. No. A _nightmare_.

Her father was dead, and so was she. She had stayed in her father's room for days, not emerging for food or water as she lay on his bed, crumpled up in the blankets, somewhere in between awake and asleep, and it wasn't until she heard a persistent knocking on her front door did she get up to answer it. She opened the door to reveal Raoul, from work, to check on how she was. She had shut the door in front of him, and got herself a glass of water, returning to her father's room. But he persisted, sending her messages through her work phone and her email. He kept sending her links to videos online, trying to cheer her up, but she ignored them. But then, on a whimsy, she followed a random link, and found it was halfway through a playlist of some vlogger who was funny enough to make her smile. She watched the whole of them, all of Raoul's links as well, and found them full of people who were living their lives, and she envied them. It wasn't until she heard from her boss that she had as long as she needed before she had to return to work that she realized that what she _needed_ was to go back to work, or she would die too. But she needed something else to fill her life, now that it was empty. And it had been the videos. They had given her purpose. She found herself scribbling notes to herself to get more cardboard and markers in the morning on her way to work. She found the drive to draw and create banners and signs for her videos to make them more interesting to look at. She looked up interesting things to talk about, and felt a little more connected to the world. But she never sang again. There had been a few videos where she talked about it, and she did sing happy birthday to another vlogger, but that had been in a group and she had felt forced.

Trying to tell Erik that had been hard. She felt herself being forced back into the world that she had lived in during the beginning of her mourning period. He understood, and he had asked to take her in his arms, which she felt relieved by and sank into them, feeling safe and secure as she had earlier. He told her he would protect her and she believed him. She believed he would protect not only her, but their relationship, whatever it was. She was so confused around him now. Erik had spoken about teaching her, and part of her had leapt, wanting nothing more than to just _sing_ for him, but the pain she felt had nearly crippled her. The different voices in her head told her to run, to stay, to move on, and she didn't know who to listen to. She wanted guidance, not orders.

It was immediately during her recovery in Erik's arms that Mr Lapps had noticed that there had been cameras aimed at them, and both she and Erik had looked up in shock at his anger.

"Oh god. Did they get everything?"

Erik had turned into someone else entirely. He had been staring at the boat, and she could hear him seething beneath his mask, and he possessively grabbed her arm, yanking her onto her feet as his thin fingers wrapped themselves tighter around her. She had tried to pull away, but Erik had been so distracted that it wasn't until she winced that he even realized that he was still holding her. Her arm flew to her chest as she shielded it with her other hand. Erik turned around, staring at her as though she had burst into flames, and felt a stab of pity as he began to apologize profusely.

"_Christine_, I'm _so_, I'm so _sorry_." He whispered, stepping close to her.

"It's just sensitive, from the sun." She lied flatly, staring up at him.

She wanted him to comfort her, but he was only watching in horror. She had no idea what he was thinking, but surely he would have been freaking out. Maybe he would never touch her again, if he thought she would break beneath him. She needed to show him she was strong.

"Erik…" She began, but found she could not continue. There were no words.

"Christine, forgive me. It was not you I was angry at, and I should not have taken it out on you. Please, Christine, don't cry." He asked of her, taking her shoulders as he tried to study her face.

"I'm not, but can we go? Please, I don't want them to ruin it anymore." She asked, referring to the reporters that she believed would be on that boat.

Erik nodded, and shouted up to the Captain, "Captain Lapps, get us out of here!"

"_Already on it, Sir_." The Captain shouted back, in his rough American accent. Christine and Erik entered the boat again, stumbling about as they tried to find some place where they wouldn't keep crashing into the cupboards.

Christine thought about all of the photos the reporters on the boat would have had of them. She thought about the tabloids that would pay good money for those photos. Christine didn't know if they had gotten everything on camera, but there was enough for her to be concerned.

"We both know what they're going to say." Christine said as she walked over to the hamper. She stared at it, wishing they could jump back in time to before they had set off.

"We don't know if they saw anything. Or even if it was them." He tried to explain, awkwardly trying to comfort her.

"And what if it was? Then in about an hour everyone is going to know about how we spent the day together, and with the tabloids already printing stories about us! What is everyone going to think of me?" She said, turning around to face Erik, leaning against the table. She was embarrassed, and she didn't know how to handle this kind of attention. All she wanted was to enjoy her time with Erik, and she couldn't with everyone hounding them.

"Christine, I won't let them print anything-"

"There's no point!" She complained. "They're always going to follow us. And they'll make up wild stories and gossip about us. Everyone will think we're sleeping together, and our reputations will be ruined."

"So what are you saying?"

She had looked at him, thinking that if there was ever a time to tell Erik her real feelings, then this was it, "I think, if there is anything between us, anything that we don't want to hide, then we need to come out and say it."

"Say what?"

He was still being so reclusive, so withdrawn. "Erik. We're so wild, two extremes. They can see it, so can Nadir, and so can I. You're the only person who refuses the see the truth."

"I don't understand." He told her, sounding very confused as he shook his head. "Are you angry at me?"

She laughed, and he laughed. She had to admit, he _was_ acting adorably. "_No_. No, we're just in a stressful situation. I know you didn't mean it. But Erik, I know how you feel. You see, I know that it has only been a day, we don't even know each other, but I _need_ to know." She said, trying to build up her courage again, but he had interrupted her.

"I need to know as well." He said, bursting in. "But are you suggesting that we tell the media everything? That we reveal everything we've talked about, everything we've done? This was our day, to just forget about them."

She looked at him seriously. "But _they_ haven't forgotten about _us_. I'm not afraid of them, Erik. They can say anything they want about me. I know my feelings, and I know yours. But they will turn on this so quickly. They'll destroy anything and everything between us."

"I'm glad you're not afraid." Erik told her. "But there's only so much I can do to keep them from you, Christine. I won't let them destroy us. I'm sorry that I've ruined your vacation."

She laughed, nodding, turning more serious as she spoke of her father. "It's not been ruined. It's been relieving. I feel better for having told you about my father. I'm sorry for embarrassing you."

"You haven't." Erik answered. "But it was my fault; I should never have brought up your voice."

She looked up at him, feeling her heart tremble. She wanted to sing. It felt good, natural to her, but she was scared. "No, it was good that you did. Maybe now that I have said goodbye to him, I can move on. It's been too long since he passed; I shouldn't still be clinging to him after so long."

"Thank you, Erik. You've been so kind to me, and I know you've tried your hardest today. I just wish we could be alone. _Really_ alone, I mean." She told him, his white mask aimed at her.

The sunlight reflected off, sending streams of lights around the room, and she felt as though she was bathed in his touch as the light landed on her arms. He hadn't noticed, instead watching her. He still seemed tense, but no longer so closed off to her. She tried to banish the thought that suggested that he wasn't really open to her. There were still secrets between them, but Christine reasoned with herself that just because he had secrets about his past didn't mean that his affection towards her was fake. She was certain of it. She tried to seriously study Erik, and found that her heart, after everything that had happened so far, was beating vehemently for him.

"I have an idea." He said, stepping forward to take her fingertips. "Christine, would you care to have lunch, at my apartment? Allow me to make it up to you. I shall make you something to eat, we can admire the view and we can-"

"Yes." She answered without thinking, smiling to herself as she thought of them both of them sitting in his living room, getting to know each other better. She faltered in her stepping as the yacht shook, jolted back into real life as she recovered. "I mean, I would love to see your apartment."

He had brightened, helping her sit down as he excitedly began to go about on his apartment. "Excellent. _Brilliant_, you won't regret it!"

"Erik…" She had laughed, about to explain that she wasn't regretting anything, but he was already in full steam as he began to explain about his music room, and his masterpieces.

"I shall show you, I think, no, I should show you…" He talked mostly to himself, as Christine watched in puzzlement as he continued the conversation by himself.

Christine half smiled to herself, leaning her head against her hand as she watched as he began to pace the small room, running through a mental catalogue of all of his personal work. He was odd, but it was a cute kind of odd. She happily watched him, laughing as he delightedly moved from his music onto his artwork. She was pleased to see him so enthusiastic about something; he had scared her only a few minutes ago. She felt more relaxed by the time they had gotten back to the docks. Erik had snapped back to reality, and proudly asked for her hand, which she had given, and he had shown her off of the boat. They waited as Mr Lapps got down from his perch, and stood before them.

"I'm sorry they found us, Mr Destler. It might have been my fault. I should have told you when it was safe for you and the young lady to step out-"

"That's okay, Mr Lapps." Said Christine, deflated, shrugging. "You did warn us. And you did let us know the moment you saw them."

Erik pulled out a medium sized brown envelope, and handed it to Mr Lapps. "You have done us a service, and a good one at that."

"Thank you, Mr Destler." Mr Lapps thanked, but Erik had already turned away from him, trying to move Christine away.

"Thanks again, Mr Lapps. I hope you have a better day, now." She said, before following Erik's lead as they walked down the docks, straight for the limousine.

Neither of them was aware that Mr Lapps watched them as they walked away, smiling as he remembered watching their tender embraces, their whispered secrets and particularly the young girl's outburst. He was reminded of his youngest daughter and how sweet and open she was, unafraid of anything. Mr Lapps had been so intrigued by Mr Destler's phone call, and John, his eldest son, had told him who the two of them were. Seeing the both of them together when they had first appeared had concerned him at first, and he was determined to make sure that the girl wouldn't come to any harm under his watch, but once the both of them appeared on the Yacht's open air deck, he had watched them, and seen how hopelessly in love they were, though neither of them admitted to it outright. He felt more confident that she was safe, and after watching them disappear into Mr Destler's limousine, and John running up to him shouting as he told of some reporters who had appeared in his office, he hoped they would find their piece of heaven.

* * *

Nadir waited on Erik's couch, filling in some forms on his phone as he watched CNN distractedly. He had been waiting for only a few hours, killing time by reading and watching reports of Erik and Christine's night together at the awards ceremony. It was interesting, to say the least. She had been portrayed at first as a nosy foreigner, trying to get into Erik's pockets. Then it moved swiftly on, once they discovered who she actually was. They accused her of trying to get on video Erik's unmasked face. There was of course some brief history of reporters attempting to do such a thing, and the anchor spoke of previous women whose actions Erik had spurned. Nadir grunted to himself as Carlotta Giudicelli's face appeared on the screen. She had been the last person to even come close to seeing Erik's face. It had not been a good night, and it was only thanks for Erik's and Nadir's lawyers combined that it had not blown up in the newspaper and destroyed everything they had worked hard for. She was an ignorant woman, Nadir reminded himself, with no grasp of the real world away from Hollywood and she had deserved Erik's anger. She would have died if Erik hadn't called Nadir. She still held a mighty fury in her, no doubt fueled by her desire to see under the mask, and she was determined to ruin him, after he had almost ruined her.

Christine was in no way like _her_, and Nadir was appalled to think that they would even compare them together. He had watched some other channels, trying to see what others thought of her. It was pretty much the same, but then there were some statements from witnesses, who chose to not reveal their name, who spoke highly of Christine. They had been at the awards ceremony, and had defended her honor by talking about how sweet and polite she had been. They spoke of how she had been excited to see Erik, which had been in no way instigated by her, and that the attraction between them was obviously mutual. Judging by those words, Nadir had no doubt in his mind that they had come from the waiters that had lingered at the bar throughout the evening. Things began to look more positive as the anchors started to show a video that was edited to show only Christine and Erik together. Some of it had been entertaining, like watching Erik's little reactions to Christine, but some of it had been embarrassing. Like watching Erik's _every little_ reaction to Christine. But God, Nadir was happy. Erik deserved some form of peace, after the torment Erik had faced for most of, if not all of his life. Christine was the salve that would mend Erik, not to get too soppy. He just hoped that Christine would be alright on her own with Erik. Last night, it had been fine. He would have been able to watch over the both of them and protect them both from each other, but now they were alone, which was why he was waiting in Erik's apartment. He would have to wait and see if their day had gone as Erik had hoped.

He switched over to CNN, as he began his day's work of checking Erik's investments, which covered a broad range of things, such as Erik's patronage of the arts, including local schools and libraries, as well as personal investments, such as putting on musicals and Erik's buildings which he had designed, but Nadir found scouring the social media websites to see what real people thought of Erik and Christine to be a much better use of his time. It had been mixed reviews. On Christine's channel, they were full of questions, but still full of support. That wasn't to say though, that there weren't people accusing them for sleeping together, or other worse things, but they were swamped by Christine's actual followers. Elsewhere though, people seemed more curious about how their relationship would develop, rather than accusing them of anything. There was even the odd person who was especially hoped they _would_ end up together, which had bemused Nadir to no end. He had saved the links, deciding to forward them to Erik whenever he found himself bored late at night. He had switched his focus back to CNN, and got on with his work, emailing contractors and specialists.

It wasn't until around mid afternoon that Erik and Christine entered the apartment, looking lost and forlorn, staring at Nadir in wonder, that he even realized anything was wrong. He stood up, putting his phone away as he laughed,

"I figured I would be waiting much longer, Erik, I didn't think-" He stopped, noticing their faces.

Erik began to walk away, into the kitchen, muttering to himself as Christine hugged herself, looking at the floor. Nadir stopped Erik, his eyes on Christine's arm as he noticed a peculiar blush on her skin.

"Erik..." He began, hot tempered as he grabbed Erik's sleeve and pushed him into the wall. "What have you done? Have you hurt her?!"

"No, I-"

"Erik, you had better be speaking the truth to me," Nadir argued. "If I find out that you have hurt her-"

"Stop," Cried Christine, stepping forward. "He didn't do anything. It's sunburn."

Nadir whipped his head around. Christine came and took Erik's hand, who looked at her slowly. He wasn't even resisting Nadir, Erik just lay slumped against the wall as Nadir held him up. Christine sighed softly, falling against Erik's arm as she buried her face in his shoulder, which rubbed against Nadir's hand. Nadir pulled away, and watched as Erik's arm came up to claim her, his hand snaking its way up Christine's arm and they held each other carefully, so involved in each other's presence that Nadir felt like he was behind a wall. Or maybe peering behind their wall.

"What happened?" Nadir asked, confused.

"They found us." Erik replied sadly. "There were reporters taking photos of everything."

"Oh." Nadir replied softly. He could sense the pain the both of them clearly felt. He wasn't sure how to respond, and he tried to think of something suitable to say, but no words would come to him.

"Does this mean we can't even hang out?" Christine asked quietly, feeling the solemn moment between them.

"No, Christine." Erik said, taking a deep breath as he tried to pull himself together.

Nadir stepped away from them, to give them some privacy, and picked up the remote. "I haven't seen anything about you two that's been about today. Just loads of sections of the two of you last night." He said, stoically flicking through the channels.

He turned around to find Christine taking a few steps towards the large HD screen, holding Erik's hand as he followed her dutifully to stand beside Nadir. They both seemed so lost, so brittle, and it seemed to Nadir that there was something that he was missing, but nothing could convince him to intrude on their personal time together, not unless they brought it up first. They watched a segment of the news on a celebrity gossip channel, with a constant stream of viewer's texts running along the bottom of the screen. He had watched it earlier, expecting a different reaction to the one that happened now.

Christine and Erik watched with varied responses. Erik, while picking up on everything the reporters were saying, ignored the people's impression of them, and kept switching his attention from the screen to Christine whenever something he thought she would disapprove of was mentioned, but Christine's attention was solely fixed on the news anchor. They had all sat down, in silence, and Erik turned to face Christine head on, holding her hands, stroking them as she watched. The news then turned as the news anchor announced they had some breaking news. It had been revealed to be Erik's and Christine's morning, from the beginning to the end. They had shown everything, from when Christine emerged from the hotel, completely stunned to find reporters surrounding her, to when they had both been on the yacht. Christine had taken a deep breath as she watched herself erupt in front of Erik, then hug him, and then get yanked to her feet by Erik on the screen, which made Nadir send a sharp glare towards Erik, who was too focused on Christine to care. Erik must have been nervous indeed as she still continued to say nothing after Nadir had stopped the video. Nadir and Erik watched her as she continued to stare at the screen, clearly in deep thought. Christine now knew everything.

"Christine?" Erik asked, his voice trembling, sounding distorted as Christine lowered her head.

Looking down into her lap, she turned to Nadir. "Please, could we be alone for a bit?" She requested, her voice full of an emotion that Nadir couldn't place.

Nadir had nodded and gotten up immediately, dashing into the kitchen, swearing to himself he heard from behind closed doors Christine's low, shaky voice ask Erik a single question.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been AWESOME. I'm so overjoyed from all of the follows as well! Hi there guys! There's plenty more coming, so thanks for all of your patience. Xx**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**_Christina Perri's 'A Thousand Years'_**

_Heart beats fast_  
_Colors and promises_  
_How to be brave?_  
_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall_  
_But watching you stand alone?_  
_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow_

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you_  
_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_  
_For a thousand years_  
_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_Time stands still_  
_Beauty in all she is_  
_I will be brave_  
_I will not let anything take away_  
_What's standing in front of me_  
_Every breath_  
_Every hour has come to this_

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday waiting for you_  
_Darling don't be afraid I have loved you_  
_For a thousand years_  
_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed I would find you_  
_Time has brought your heart to me_  
_I have loved you for a thousand years_  
_I'll love you for a thousand more_

* * *

On the limousine ride home, Christine had barely spoken a word, except to greet the driver, and Erik had panicked. He wasn't sure what to do, so he watched as she sat beside him, her bag in her lap, and switched on her phone. She frowned as she saw her messages, and clicked a button to send her phone to sleep. She sat in deep thought, looking at him several times, her lips pursed as she returned to looking back into her bag. Erik wanted to ask her what was wrong but felt restricted. Why should feel he be allowed to know what she felt? He was a stain in her life. He was ruining her with his attention, and if she managed to get past that, then there was still the mask. Erik wanted to know what she thought about it. Was it handsome? Had she fallen in love with the mask? It was something he thought throughout the rest of ride to his apartment in his building. The limousine entered an underground garage, pausing to show identification, and started up again. Christine looked around her, curious, but silent. Once the limousine stopped, they both got out, and Erik watched as Christine came around to join him. Erik waved to the driver, as did Christine, and they both walked over to an empty, blank wall. Erik hoped to impress her when he drifted his hands over a section of the wall, which revealed two doors to show an elevator. It was one of his many illusions, a secure way of ensuring that no-one could come up to his apartment uninvited. Christine pulled a face that suggested she was indeed impressed, but her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to understand what she had just seen. She didn't ask him about it though, which irritated him. He had hoped she would be curious, and ask him all sorts of questions, it would be another chance for him to show off, but she stayed silent as she stepped into the elevator. Erik had thought to mention that it was his building, which he designed, but he wasn't sure that the time was right. Christine seemed to be making up her mind about something as the bell rang to announce their arrival.

The doors opened to reveal a long hallway, with a white ceiling, grey floor and red walls. It was lit up from lights on either side, and down the other end was his front door. Erik tried to judge her reaction. She seemed to brighten up, looking at him inquisitively. He took her hand, stepping forward as he guided her down the hallway. Her hair lit up beautifully, the strands framing her face glowing as he watched her blue eyes become transfixed by him. The spell was quickly broken when they stepped through the door to reveal Nadir sitting on the couch, with a large grin on his face. Erik was outraged! How dare Nadir even _remain_ in his home while he had not been present? Nadir stood up, approaching the both of them jovially, but Erik was too annoyed to greet his friend, deciding to storm off into the kitchen. Nadir stopped him, grabbing his sleeve as he watched Christine's arm.

Nadir had gone berserk, threatening Erik as he shoved him into a wall. Erik had given no thought against his actions. He deserved them. He deserved a thousand knives to his throat. But Christine had come to his defense, claiming it was sunburn, and joined his side. He felt bliss return to him as Christine merged herself with him, defending him against Nadir's impressions. But then Nadir had shown them the news. What everyone was saying about them was displayed for Christine's eyes to see on Erik's large screen, and she had guided him to the couch. He had watched in agony, as Christine watched the news anchors display their every moment together silently. Erik was confused, why was she not saying anything? What consumed her every thought? Was she so afraid of the news, or how the people saw her?

When Christine finally finished thinking, she had sadly requested that Nadir leave the room, and waited until they both heard the door click shut before she turned to Erik and asked,

"So, do you two live together?"

"No," Erik laughed, relieved. "No, he's just nosy. He has admittance into my apartment for whenever he sees fit. I had no idea he would be here today."

"Oh." She said, before returning to silence.

She stared about her, finally taking in the room, and he wondered what she thought. It was the top floor of his building, and he had designed it with an intended view of paradise. It was his Eden, his sanctuary. He had built the front room to have a large rose cathedral window, in the shape of a circle, where they could see New York for all of its splendor and in technicolor. Even now, multi-colored strains of light streamed down into the room. Before it was a small fountain with a miniature pond, complete with reeds and other water based plants. It was lit beautifully, not only from the small lights surrounding the pond that would automatically turn on when they sensed a lack of light, but from the daylight streaming in. Christine stared at it, amazed.

"That's incredible!" Christine exclaimed, grabbing the armrest of the couch to stare at it on her left.

"Do you like it?" He asked, gazing over to it.

There was a wall of books behind them, which their couch was comfortably pushed close to, and opposite them were two chairs on either side, with a rug between them. On the wall opposite them was the large HD screen, surrounded by Erik's awards for his music, his architectural work, those he had received for donating money. He was proud of everything, and watched as Christine stared at the pond.

"Do you like it, Christine?" He asked again.

"Yes! My god, _you have a pond_!" She said, turning around to face him. "Do you have fish?"

"Yes," He said, nodding. "Some goldfish and some Koi."

"Wow, and so many books too?" She asked, turning in her seat again.

"Yes, and I have read them all." He boasted, turning to gesture the wall opposite them that was bathed in light. "As for the awards, they are for a number of different accomplishments-"

"Erik?" She interrupted, placing her hands on his arm, gently interrupting him before he started another speech. "While we are alone, I think we need to have a serious talk now."

He brought his arms down from his grand gesture, and watched her, saddened by her grave tone. "Alright."

"Erik? What are we?"

Erik hadn't expected that question, and he felt dreadful as his mind could only come up with one word. "What?"

"What _are_ we? I know that we are friends, but what am I to you? Am I something to be discarded once you've had your fill, or do you feel something for me that _means_ something?"

"Christine," He began in a strangled voice, but couldn't help but let a sob out as she jumped in her seat.

He wasn't prepared for this. What was Christine trying to say? That she dared to care what she meant to him. Oh, more than anything, more than the moon and stars, he thought.

She placed her hand on his knee and asked, "Erik, please tell me. I have these feelings, and I hope you have them too. I don't know what they are, and I'm afraid. They're so strong, telling me where to go, but I need to know if you are there too."

He buried his head in his hands, crying. "Christine, your words, you don't know what you're saying-"

"I do!" She declared, annoyed. "I want to spend every minute with you; I want to hold your hand and talk about my day with you. I want to spend time with you so much, it's disturbing to think about."

"Christine…"

"Erik! Tell me, how do you feel?" She asked forcefully, her hands forming into fists as she pulled herself away. She asked pitifully, her voice cracking. "Am I, _wrong_? Have I just been fooling myself?"

"No!" Erik cried. "My dear, _you are not_!"

He reached forward, and took her hands, pulling them to his chest. "Christine, you are a saint, every word has me at your knees. If you only knew how special you are to me. I want nothing more than to spend eternity holding your hand."

She blushed red, an adorable shade as her eyelashes fluttered, holding her breath as her face lingered close to his mask.

"You don't think we're going too fast?" She asked. "It's only been a day, but…"

"No, from the moment we met, I knew we were meant to be together." He replied, whispering to her hands. "I _knew_ it."

"Then, going back to my earlier question, what are we? We're more than friends, aren't we?"

"Yes." Erik had answered, dropping their hands into his lap comfortably.

"Then, would you admit that today has been a _date_?" She asked, smiling shyly at him.

Erik bit his lip. He hadn't thought to call it that, it had only been an invitation to him, but he liked where this conversation was going, so he nodded.

"And would you agree that you want, if you haven't already planned it, to take me out on another date?"

He nodded again, still liking this conversation. He was beginning to suspect where it was going when Christine asked,

"So are we _dating_?"

Erik stared at her. She had used the word dating in a positive light. Like as though it was a good thing. Like as though she wanted to. She was still smiling, in fact, directly at him as she bit her lower lip.

"I … _Yes_?" He answered hoarsely. "If you wish to see it that way."

Christine groaned. "All I want is a direct answer, Erik. The important question is, do you _want_ to date me? Don't think about me, think about what you want."

"But Christine, I know what I want, but I shall never know what _you_ are thinking, and you scared me on the way here."

She sighed, apologetic as she said, "I know. Forgive me. I was trying to think about what I was going to say."

"It's alright."

She looked at him seriously as she smiled and started again. "So, _do_ you want to date me?"

"Very much, Christine." He said, stroking her curled up fingers in his grasp.

Christine let out a deep breath, shaking her head as she grinned. "_Good_."

Erik released her hands as Christine leaned back in her seat, looking happy with his answer. "Is this what you were thinking about? Were you thinking about us? About me?" Erik asked, subconsciously reaching up to brush his fingers along his mask. "Does this bother you? Does it make you unsure about my feelings for you?"

"No," Christine cried, leaning forward to take his shoulders. "I know what is under there."

Erik tried to pull away from her. This was it; this was when she would ask to see his face. This was where the screaming would begin and Erik would be alone again. _No_. Erik wouldn't _allow_ it. She would never see under his mask. He would rather die than let her see. His own mother couldn't stand to look at him, so why would Christine? She would hate him, even more so when she realized that he had tricked her into thinking they could ever have a normal relationship. She could fall in love with the mask, he decided, as long as she still treated him like a human being. He slumped in his seat, staring at his hands that in lay in his lap. He had never felt so _empty_, until now.

Christine had watched him, clutching her tiny hands around his shoulders as she continued, clearly determined to not let him drift away from her or from this conversation. "I know that it is you, under there. People can say horrible things, but I don't care. I only care about how you treat me, and how you feel for me."

Christine drew her legs up onto the couch, and knelt beside him. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Christine, I hear you." Erik answered bitterly, though he was touched by her words. "So what have you heard, my dear? What nightmares have been creeping into your dreams when you think of me, hmm?"

Christine pulled away, hurt. "Only what Nadir has told me, which wasn't much."

_Nadir_! Of course, why _wouldn't_ the foul mouthed little fool fill her head with horrors? It wasn't his place to _gossip_ about Erik in such matters. But exactly what had Nadir told her? She surely must have known, if she hadn't guessed by now, that he was imperfect, broken and ugly, like a discarded toy.

Christine leaned in again. "Erik, I know that you have an issue with your appearance, but it's okay. We don't have to cross that bridge just yet. We're still just getting to know each other. Do you think I am dating you because I thought you were handsome?" She asked, smiling when said the word 'dating'.

Dating. They were _dating_. That thought lingered in Erik's head as she continued. "We're dating because we find something in each other that we want in our lives. We want _each other_, don't we?"

"Yes." He answered solemnly. Was she really just going to pass over the mask, like as though it was nothing?

"I know that you're shy, but you do enjoy my company. I know that you're generous, and talented, and you're brilliant, and musical, and so thoughtful." She listed, counting them off on his fingers as she uncurled them from his icy grip. "And you like Nadir, though I don't think you really want to admit that right now. You've been considerate, thinking about my comfort and my welfare, and you've been so sweet with me."

She tilted her head, glancing at him from underneath her eyelashes as she played with his fingers, teasing him. "And I think I know why you want to date me. That much is obvious."

Erik actually let out a chortle of relief, tickling her palm as she persisted on fiddling with his gloves. She was true there.

"So considering that we are dating, would you go so far as to admit that we are boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Erik watched her in silence, stunned. She sat quietly, watching him for any reaction as he thought through what she had said. She was patient, smiling to herself as he distractedly continued to tickle her hands. He watched her, dragging his teeth over his lips as he bit on them, replaying the whole day in his head. She was serious. She wanted him to date her. She wanted to be able to call him her boyfriend. But this was impossible; they were from two different countries, two different worlds. When she went back to England, it would all be over, and he would be alone. Would she still call him her boyfriend then? There must have been plenty of boys for her back home, waiting for her return. She wouldn't want him to stay around then, Erik thought, as Christine turned to look at the door that Nadir was standing directly behind, trying to listen to every word. Erik looked as well, wishing he could blame it all on him. He returned his gaze to Christine, who was holding her breath as she waited for her answer.

"Maybe this was a mistake." Christine began, looking away. "I shouldn't have asked, you're a celebrity after all…"

"Christine," Erik began, taking Christine's hand. He would do this properly. Even if he only had the rest of the week with her and then never saw her again, he would take the opportunity and claim her as his. "Would you … be my … girlfriend?"

Christine gawked, her mouth wide open as she fell into his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around Erik's neck as she excitedly cried, "_Yes_!"

Christine had buried her whole body against his, her chest pressed tight against his, her face hidden in the folds of Erik's collar, her hot breath beating heavily against him. Erik sighed, breathing her in as he allowed himself the pleasure of enjoying her body against his. Before, back on the yacht, it had been entirely about comforting Christine, and even then, it hadn't been a proper hug. Now she was curled up in his lap, like a satisfied kitten, her heart racing as she lifted up her head and rubbed her cheek against his. Erik balked, shocked by her actions, but found he couldn't help but press his own cheek against the mask, wishing he could feel her hot blush against his malformed skin. It had been some time since someone had touched his mask, let alone with good intentions, and it made Erik very nervous.

She pulled away, overjoyed, her mouth gaping as she tried to say something, but fell back against him, squeezing his body tightly as she hugged him once more. Erik held her, proud of himself as he dared to hold her back and draped his arm casually over her curled up legs. She relaxed into him, breathing gently as she rested herself on his chest, which Erik struggled to keep still as he wanted nothing more than to gulp in the hot air inside his mask, which was stifling him. They remained in their places, curled up around each other, drinking in each other's magnificence, and they both heard a creak somewhere and looked up to see Nadir poking his head around the kitchen door with a bottle of champagne.

"Now that the roller coaster has finished, and no-one's scared that they're going to lose their head, how about we celebrate?" Nadir offered, grinning cheekily to himself as he stepped out to reveal three glasses in his other hand.

"You enjoy helping yourself to my fridge, don't you?" Erik asked irritably, but was in a pleasant enough mood to let it slide.

Christine giggled, dropping her head back onto Erik's chest, which made him happy as he stroked her back.

"But of course! You only get the best, and we're friends so share and share alike!" Nadir answered, gladdened by Erik's easy tone, noticing their positions on the couch as he sat himself down at the other end. He began to pour drinks, handing one to Erik and to Christine, and one for himself as he raised a toast. "This is something to celebrate after all. You are his first, after all."

Erik tensed in his seat, but Christine ignored him, replying to Nadir, "And he's mine. Well, a _serious_ relationship, that is. I've dated some guys before, but nothing really happened." She said, grinning as she took her glass.

Erik elected to ignore her dating history as he reminded himself that she was dating _him_ now. Though it would not be long, he was convinced. He smiled to himself as he drew patterns on her back, which made her shiver and send him a quick smirk. He would enjoy this for as long as he could. He would drink her in, and savor every memory. He would keep her in his mind, forever, and wished that she would at least never forget him.

"This does mean I shall have to announce it." Nadir sighed, bringing out his phone and placing it on the table.

Christine opened her mouth to say something. "Can't we just relax first? I mean, do we have to tell them? I feel more in the mood to tell someone who cares."

Nadir shrugged. "If that's the way you want it. Erik, what do you think?"

"Whatever Christine wants." Erik said, stroking a few strands of hair away from her face so he could see her eyes. She blushed, her eyes flickering up to meet his.

"Well, I was thinking, why don't we announce it on my channel?" Christine asked. "So people know we're serious. If we just tell the reporters, then they can say all sorts of things that aren't true, but if we're the ones to lay it all out, then they can't say anything about it."

"Christine, Erik might not-" Nadir began, but Erik held up a single hand to shush him, still focusing on Christine.

"Christine. While I understand that you want to tell your followers about us, I do not think that our relationship is important enough to feature in your videos." He said calmly, willing her to understand.

Christine flinched. "Not important enough? What are you saying?"

Erik sighed as he dropped his hand. "I mean, that while our relationship is important to _us_, I doubt many of your followers would see it that way."

Christine just looked more confused. "You're my boyfriend. Why wouldn't they care? They will all want to get to know you the way I do."

"Christine, what I think Erik is trying to say is, that he thinks they won't understand. He's scared of their reaction, and whether it will make an impact on your impression of him. And furthermore, he's scared about the cameras. Erik has never liked putting his life on display, even when he was younger he hated to perform. So to ask him to perform on cue is something akin to asking a dog to meow, do you see what I mean?"

Erik nodded. He hadn't found a polite way of putting it himself without hurting Christine. Even Nadir's words had set him on edge, but Christine seemed to understand, turning back to Erik, her pink lips distracting him as he noticed their fullness.

"Well then, let's not make a video." She said, shrugging lightly. "We can talk about what I can discuss in my videos later, but right now, all I want to do is just stay here with you, and enjoy our time together."

Erik laughed, stroking her back as she raised her glass of champagne. He did so as well, and clinked it against hers as Christine excitedly turned back to Nadir and began to tell him everything that he had done for her that morning, including seeing the Statue of Liberty. Erik listened with one ear, as he thought about the issues that they still had to work through while Christine sipped her drink. There were her videos, and the media. She still had her ticket back to England, and they still had 5 whole days left until she would have to leave him. 5 days to convince to stay by his side. 5 days to enjoy her embraces and her company. 5 days to keep her and then lose her forever.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been AWESOME. I'm so overjoyed from all of the follows as well! Hi there guys! There's plenty more coming, so thanks for all of your patience. Xx**

**To answer some of your questions. I'm not telling you what will happen, just know that I have been planning to write this story for months, ever since Christmas, and now that I've finished writing my dissertation I am treating myself to this, as a reward. I have plenty of drama coming but I am taking my sweet time with this! They still have the rest of the day to get through! Also, 'pajamas' is the American spelling, whereas 'pyjamas' is the British spelling. Ignoring the fact that I _am_ British, I decided to have Christine use the British spelling as she has been raised in England. :)**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

_**BB King's 'Please, Love me'**_

_I've been in love with you baby_  
_Honey before I learned to call your name_  
_Yes, was in love with you baby_  
_Honey before I learned to call your name_  
_Yeah, the way you treatin' me baby_  
_Honey you gonna drive old me insane_

_Yeah, you know I love you_  
_I'll do anything you tell me to_  
_Yeah, you know I love you baby_  
_And I'll do anything you tell me to_  
_Well there's nothing in this world baby_  
_Honey that I wouldn't do for you_

* * *

Stepping into Erik's apartment had been enlightening. His whole apartment, to Christine, looked like a church, devoted to knowledge and nature, and she had been in awe of Erik's home the moment they had approached the building. It had been in a nice looking neighborhood, surrounded by tall glass buildings that vaguely reminded her of home. She hadn't wanted to say anything about his home until Erik brought the subject up and she had another chance to closely look at it, and she suspected that Erik would have given her a tour immediately, had Nadir not been waiting for them. Christine had been surprised, certainly, to see Nadir. While she had guessed that they were close friends and colleagues, she hadn't known whether she would see him again. Standing by the front entrance as she held herself together, she watched as Erik left her to take over greetings, clearly not impressed by Nadir's appearance. She was about to say hello when Nadir noticed her arm.

Christine gasped as Nadir instantly took up Christine's side and shoved Erik into the wall behind her, next to the door. She had jumped in, to defend Erik, and once Nadir realized something had changed between them, he left them to console each other against the wall. Christine felt exhausted. She was barely through the second day of her visit to America and already she just wanted to curl up in her bed and just nap. It was never a dull moment with Erik around, she joked with herself. She had felt better, being close to Erik as his breathing fell into a strange rhythm. Nadir shortly put on the news, and Christine had been fascinated, guiding Erik to the couch so they could watch it together.

She had watched at first, just intrigued by American television at first, as she hadn't yet watched any in her hotel room, but then she realized as Nadir spoke that they were watching reports on both Erik and her. There had even been some breaking news on the both of them. She watched, embarrassed as they showed Christine's and Erik's time on the yacht, which included Christine's speech to Erik about her father, and Erik's grip on her arm as he lifted her up off the yacht.

She hadn't realized how she looked. She did have to admit, green shorts with red converse was a good idea, but she wasn't sure if it matched her blond hair, she laughed to herself, but seriously, she hadn't realized that she looked so emotional, so defenseless in front of Erik. She didn't like it. She wanted to take control; she wanted to be the strong one. For Erik. She needed to be strong, because the speech she had made up in her head on the way here required her to be. She needed to show Erik that like him, she had similar feelings. She needed to see if he would admit to himself that she did have those feelings for him as well. Christine was scared though. She was scared that he would reject her. While it might have been true, that he did hold these feelings, there was still always the chance that he would say no and tell her to leave. He might have enjoyed the cuddling and the hand holding, but that didn't mean that he was ready for a long term relationship, like Christine was.

It took some time to mull over her thoughts, and after Nadir had paused the TV, she had asked him to leave so she could talk to Erik. He did as she asked, and she smiled as a form of thanks to him. She had asked Erik some small questions, made a few small comments, hopefully to get him to relax. They were mostly about his apartment, but Erik had sensed this as a good time to begin the tour. She stopped him before he got too far ahead of himself, and tried to keep her thoughts tied together as she began her line of questioning.

Once the idea of her feelings had been planted in his head, he had buried his head in his hands, crying as he tried to reject her words. She had been shocked to see him so affected by her words, she had no idea that he felt such emotion when it came to someone caring for him, but she pulled herself together. He admitted his feelings went much deeper than he had tried to show, and Christine had blushed, overjoyed by his words as he took her hands. His hands were shaking, and his voice trembled, but she held herself up, trying to remember her words as she continued. She had asked if today had been a date, and he had shyly acknowledged it, calming down considerably once he saw where they were heading. She had tried asking if he planned on asking her out on another date, but he only said yes, not suggesting what he was planning, if anything. But then she dared to ask if they were dating. He confirmed it, after he judged her reaction to be positive towards him. She had felt thankful, relaxing into her seat as she smiled at him.

Erik seemed to be thinking about something, and he asked her whether the mask was bothering her. Christine wondered if Erik thought her actions were based on her own feelings, or whether he thought she was confused. She tried to explain her feelings about his mask; she tried to explain that while Nadir had spoken of his appearance, he hadn't really gone into detail. If she was being honest, she was nervous about seeing his face, if he would ever let her. She had seen many photos of deformities, and working in London had led to meeting all sorts of characters, but there must have been something underneath that mask that must have terrified other people if he felt forced to wear it. She told him that the mask wasn't the reason why she even wanted to date him in the first place, but he seemed loath to respond to that. She had tried to comfort him, to try and convince him that she was interested in seeing him, and that his mask didn't alter her opinion of him.

She had taken his hand, uncurling his stiff fingers as she counted off the reasons she liked him. He seemed appeased, growing happier as she moved onto his other hand, still counting. He still seemed wound up about the mask, and he was still on shaky ground. She had asked if because they were dating, if they were allowed to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, which was really what she was interested in. They could do all of the dates, and he could try to impress through his awards and his _really_ impressive apartment, but at the end of the day, all she wanted was to be able to claim him as hers. She wanted to be able to hold his hand in a crowded room. She wanted to buy all of the stupid gifts that girlfriends gave their boyfriends on Valentine's Day, but most of all, she wanted people to ask her how she and Erik were doing, instead of them just asking if she was okay. Wasn't it funny, Christine pondered, how that if you were single, people would be concerned about you, but once you were part of a couple, people automatically assume everything is fine. She looked at Erik, while thinking this, and wondered what that said about them. She had looked around to see where Nadir had gone, but couldn't tell from the multitude of doors surrounding them.

Erik still hadn't answered by now, and Christine was getting more and more panicky. He answered her question at last, in a way she had not expected. He had asked if to be his girlfriend in such a formal way, that she had hardly been able to contain her excitement and practically swallowed him whole as she fell into his lap, hugging him so tightly that she had gotten concerned that she might have been choking him. She had pulled back, wanting to say something, anything more eloquent than the one word she had used, but found there was nothing more to say as she returned back to his embrace.

Nadir returned with champagne, eager to spend Erik's money in celebration and Christine had chuckled, still in his arms, at Erik's play at irritation. Nadir had tried to set Erik on edge again by mentioning was Christine was his first relationship, but Christine had countered that Erik was her first serious relationship, which was true. There had been the odd boy she had thought she liked. There had even been Raoul, but that had only been pretend, she reminded herself. They had played at it during the summer before her father passed away, but they had both grown bored of playing, and had given it up after a few weeks. None of her past relationships felt serious, to Christine. It had been like playacting. It was as though for her whole life, she had been training in small parts for her one big break. Relaxing into Erik's chest, she was convinced he was it. Erik had to be the one, her ribs shook with terror and delight every time she saw him. Her legs could barely keep her up whenever she thought of him, and she felt like she had to be constantly on her best behavior in front of him, but she also felt tranquil enough around him to be herself. It was illuminating. Her whole life seemed so simplified now.

Erik didn't seem to think that. He seemed to be thinking about the road ahead. Christine could tell that the end of her week was making him nervous, but she was confused. They'd still be able to see each other, so why was he acting as though it was the end of the world? They'd be able to get webcams and talk online, and then there were texts and messages and late night phone calls. They'd still be in contact; they just wouldn't be able to see each other in person. Not unless they organized it really well. She didn't want to get in the way of his work, and she knew he would be staying in New York.

Once the drinks were handed out, the subject soon turned to the media, and their interpretation of the news, which was a funny thing to think about. Christine had suggested putting an announcement to her channel, and Nadir had tried to explain why that wasn't a good idea, but Erik had stepped in at the last second, his pride getting to him as he tried to tell her himself why it wasn't a good idea. She hadn't understood at first. He had made it sound as though their new relationship wasn't real enough to tell her followers, which she tried not to be insulted by. Nadir had to step in and translate Erik's mumbling so it made more sense, and she realized that he was anxious about their view of him, as well as the idea of having to perform to a crowd. She consoled him, promising to herself that she wouldn't ever force him to do something he didn't want to, and Christine had turned to Nadir, happily recalling to him how the day had gone as Erik's hands brushed over her hair, admiring her braid. Christine let him, she knew he was bored as he could not drink in front of them, and it really meant that he felt comfortable enough to touch her now without asking, which moved her. He was still holding his glass, having used his to clink against hers but now found no use for it. She carried on talking to Nadir once she was done talking about their day, and Nadir changed the subject to emailing the various broadcasting stations. He spoke aloud what he was typing away at furiously on his phone, and both Christine and Erik changed a few words, correcting him whenever he tried to slip in a pun or a silly joke, but the basic words that were sent were:

"_Erik Destler and Christine Daae would like to announce that they are now dating. They are keeping it formal for now to see if anything develops. They would only ask that no-one disturb them. No photos or videos that are not approved of by both Erik and Christine_."

By the time they had finished writing the message, it was only around four in the afternoon. Christine was curious to see how the media would respond, so they waited patiently for the news to start. Nadir had given the remote to Christine as Erik played with her hair style still, and she flicked through the channels, commenting on a few things, noticing the new brands and the locations. She enjoyed the adverts mostly, but she discovered one channel that really got her attention. She flicked the TV over to the BBC news channel, and sat as she watched a report on a shop that had gone out of business.

"Christine, would you like me to put something else on you? I'm sure I can pick something you'll like." Nadir asked politely.

Christine tried to stay perfectly still now, as Erik began to put out her hair tie and undo her French braid. She tried reaching up to feel Erik's fingers as he loosened each of her tiny ringlets, but he pushed her away, bidding her to stay still and let him work.

She looked at Nadir from the corner of her eyes as she faced forward, sitting upright in Erik's lap. "Oh no, that's fine. I figured I might as well check on home. After all, when will I ever get to watch BBC news in another country, huh?"

Nadir chuckled, spreading his arm out to suggest that she may continue. Christine returned to gazing at the television. She wasn't really interested in what they were saying, but it reminded her of home. She was enjoying Erik fingers running through her hair. He was gentle, teasing out each curl and laying them about her shoulders. It was a long braid, but he was careful with each strand.

When he had finished, he drew his long, thin hand down her hair and said, "I much prefer your hair down."

Christine laughed. "I only had it up because it's so hot over here. I wanted to keep my hair out of the way."

"Will you keep it down?" He asked softly.

"Yes, I will, now that I know you like it that way." Christine said as she slid off of his lap, sinking into his side as Erik watched her. She slyly looked up at him, smirking as Erik brushed some of her hair behind her ears so he could see her face.

Nadir stood up, rubbing his hands together. "Well then, how about some lunch?"

Christine looked up, smiling. "Sure."

She cast a curious glance to Erik, wondering if by now Erik would eat something. She knew he might not want to do it in front of her, but he hadn't eaten all day. Erik caught her glance and sighed.

"Nothing for me."

"Erik, are you sure? You don't have to eat in front of us, but surely you must be at least thirsty by now?" Christine asked.

"No, Christine. I very rarely eat or drink. I only keep food around because Nadir visits every day and grumbles if I don't have anything for him."

Christine placed her hand on Erik's. "That can't be very healthy for you, Erik."

Erik chortled. "Perhaps not, but I don't require much to keep me going. Feel free to have whatever you wish. If you like, I can order something for you."

Christine shrugged, smiling. "That's okay. I just wished I'd remembered to grab that hamper back at the yacht, there was some good stuff in there."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Nadir stuck his head from around the kitchen door. "How about some egg and cress sandwiches?"

Lunch was soon on its way, Nadir clattering around in the kitchen, and Erik now saw that there was time to show Christine his apartment in full, as they got up to begin the tour. He guided her around the couch to the bookshelf wall, where Christine began to pour over the many different volumes. It was all very impressive, and Erik had said that he had read them all. It was quite an achievement, considering how tall and wide the wall was.

"You still use the Dewey decimal system?" She asked, pointing out the small plaques on each shelf.

"Yes, it keeps everything in order." He told her, pulling a book out to leaf through it. "Do you have many books?"

Christine nodded after tilting her head to read the title of some book on aircraft. "Yes, but it's mostly fiction. It started years ago, when my father gave me my first book. It was about some crocodile who had lost his balloon," She said, distracted as she kept looking through his books. "My father built me a shelf, and told me when I had filled the shelf with books I had read; he would give me another shelf and give me another book. So I kept asking for books for Christmas and for my birthday. He'd read them to me, and every time we finished a book together, he'd put it on the shelf. When I got older, it was easier to fill the shelf because the books were bigger. Soon, we didn't have any space in my room for shelves and I had to put up with most of the books on the floor or under my bed."

"That sounds wonderful." Erik said, fondly. "I don't remember my first book clearly. It was on something long and stuffy, but I still read it."

Christine turned around, confused. "You were bored with a kid's book? I remember loving all of mine."

Erik shook his head. "No, it wasn't a children's book. It was something to do with astronomy."

Christine smiled. "Your first book was on Astronomy? How beautiful. Did your parents give that to you?"

Erik flinched, putting the book back with one finger pushing against its spine as it slid into place. "No. I stole it from a shop when I young. I took it because the stars were my only view from my bedroom window at night and I wanted to look at the pictures."

Christine was surprised. "How old were you?"

Erik shrugged. "I'm guessing somewhere between eight or eleven. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No, I don't keep track of time like other people. I sleep whenever I wish to, rise whenever I feel compelled to, and eat whenever I feel the urge. Nadir handles the timekeeping."

"Wait, so you were nine or ten years old, and you stole your first book? Why didn't your parents give you a book when you were younger?"

Erik turned his head to stare at her. "My father died before I was born. He died of lung cancer. My mother hated me since birth and refused to have any form of contact with me." He began to calmly stroke the spine of a book. "She blamed me for everything. She was beautiful, and I was hideous, so it was easy for her to bully me and lock me up. There was a local priest who fed me and clothed me while I stayed in my mother's house. He was only allowed to see me because she was Catholic and she had been raised to respect priests. I suspect had she been made of a more studier mettle and had not been so devoted to God, she would have killed me the moment I was born, but she endured her struggles, until she could not. She left one night, and never returned. I think giving me a book would have been the least of her worries."

"Oh Erik," Christine moaned. "I'm sorry."

Erik sighed, running one hand over his mask.

"It's alright, Christine. It was probably the best, for both of us. We were both very unhappy with our lot in life, and the only way to fix it was for one of us to leave."

"That's horrible!" Christine cried. "How could she just _leave_ you on your own?"

"I was _fine_, Christine. I was alone for a bit, but Father Hurran found me. After that, I was allowed to do as I wished, as long as I did not get into trouble. I was given toys and instruments and taken away from that house. The only thing I kept that she gave me was my first mask."

Christine stayed silent as she tried to absorb this new knowledge. It was amazing to think that Erik's childhood had been so drastically different to her own. She had known love from the very beginning, her father spoiling her with attention and treats, while Erik had lived a very sheltered childhood with a mother full of regret and hate. Erik reached out to brush his fingers along her bare arm, and she took his hand tightly. She was glad he had opened up to her.

"Do you think that if she had stayed, she would have learned to love you?" Christine asked, but she sensed she had tripped some wire, as Erik only stared at her, holding her hand.

Christine wondered if she had upset Erik, possibly even insulted him, but he brushed it off as he gestured over to the pond before the rose window. "You know, you may feed the Koi if you like. They're quite gentle, they'll even eat from your fingers if you were to suggest it to them! They were brought here from Japan…"

Erik continued, guiding her over to the pond, becoming quite eccentric, and Christine followed, quite certain now that her words had hurt him, but she only watched as Erik knelt down, still claiming her hand, reaching into some pond reeds to pull out a small blue tub of fish food.

"Here, Christine." He told her, reaching up to pour some pellets into her cupped hand. "Place your hand against the water and watch."

Christine felt uneasy. He seemed frantic, desperate to distract her from what they had just discussed, but she didn't want to push him into a topic that was sore for him. So she tried to relax as she knelt down beside him, placing her hand flat on the water, her fingers dipping into the cool water slightly. She watched in amazement as two large Koi appeared, their wide gaping mouth sucking on her fingers as they searched for the pellets. She lifted her hand slightly, so that the pellets rolled down her fingers and into their open mouths. She laughed, and Erik joined in with her, squeezing her hand as they sat down by the edge of the water, facing each other.

They carried on talking as Nadir sang horribly to himself in the kitchen. Sitting in the hot, multi-coloured light that the rose window gave, and watching the different colours land on the rippling water was beautiful, it made Christine feel as though she was in a dream. She would never have believed that her trip to America would bring about so many good things.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing. I would love to see more reviews though, they are the only thing that are keeping me going, knowing whether or not you're enjoying the story.**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Adele's 'Hiding My Heart'**_

_This is how the story went_  
_I met someone by accident_  
_Who blew me away_  
_Blew me away_  
_And it was in the darkest of my days_  
_When you took my sorrow and you took my pain_  
_And buried them away, buried them away_

_I wish I could lay down beside you_  
_When the day is done_  
_And wake up to your face against the morning sun_  
_But like everything I've ever known_  
_You'll disappear one day_  
_So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away_

* * *

Erik had taken many liberties with Christine, which didn't end with his constant caresses. He had brought her to his home, told her a little of his childhood and had even risked his new status of 'boyfriend' (A term he still didn't think he deserved) by touching her without asking. She had not refused him in any aspect though. His touches were welcome to her, he had realized after their conversation, and as much as he admired her French braid, he was eager to see down, much like the night before. He had been playing with the strands that framed her face, and he had pressed his fingers to her braid, hoping to feel each curl and lock, but his thick gloves prevented him. He soon got tired of it, remembering the way her hair had been the night before and deftly began to unbraid the entire hairstyle. She had tried reaching up to feel what he was doing, her painted nails brushing over his fingertips, but he had cooed to her while pushing her away, which had been a stroke of genius on his part as she left him alone as she sat in his lap, letting him play with her hair as though she was a doll. He had stroked her hair with the back of his gloved hand, appreciating the way her hair bounced off her shoulders, splaying out in all directions as she moved her head when she talked.

Nadir had sent out his emails during Erik's daydream, informing the major news broadcasters of Erik and Christine's little announcement. He knew that this would probably mean interviews, a few photo shoots and a few public dates, for most normal celebrities. Courting Christine would require privacy and intimacy, so Erik tried to think of as many interesting things he could offer her while she was in New York as Christine and Nadir chatted. It was hard though. Erik, having never been the social butterfly had no idea where the hot spots in New York were, but Nadir would. Erik would have to try and corner Nadir when the time was right and ask him his opinion.

They had all waited for the news, sitting on the couch, but soon lost interest. Erik had mostly been disinterested, but Christine was curious. Erik reasoned that it was because the whole fad of being on television was new to her. She would lose interest once everyone calmed down, and maybe then, Erik would be able to properly encourage her affections for him.

Nadir had disappeared to make both himself and Christine lunch, but Christine had once again broached the subject of Erik's mask, having discussed it briefly earlier. He declined; explaining how he rarely ate or drank anyway and compelled her to go on without him. The subject of his mask passed, and Erik was happy. It was a conversation that Erik hoped Christine knew never to force again.

Erik began giving Christine a tour of his apartment, first by showing her the wall behind them, which had been filled from corner to corner with books on a broad range of subjects. She had seemed fascinated, and she began poking around, inspecting them like as though they were children which needed to be loved. Erik had never imagined himself to so envious of an inanimate object. She recalled how her father had given her books, feeding her imagination.

Whenever Christine spoke of her father, with was always with a hushed reverence, as though she thought he might be listening. She spoke with respect, slowly, so she could remember little details about him. She clearly loved her father, despite the anger she had told Erik she had felt after his passing. Erik couldn't imagine what it was like to have a parent who cared.

He had been born in France, in a small town called Boscherville, with a small population of people with smaller minds. His mother, Madeleine, had already been grieving the death of her newlywed husband when she gave birth to him. She had been young, and was outraged and angry as her last chance at keeping her family crumbled away in her arms. She had held onto her dreams of having a perfect family, but had never held Erik, who from birth had longed for a loving hug or even a smile from her. For years, Erik had to rely on his tricks, his intelligence, and the generosity of the local priest to keep him alive while he struggled to live in the house that should have been called home. He had taught himself to play the piano that had been kept in the front room, and read sheet music, and he had studied how to trick and dazzle the human mind, whether it was with his own voice or with tools. People had been afraid of him. While they hadn't exactly called him a demon, there had still been cruel words tossed around effortlessly to taunt him. Freak. Creature. Monster. Words that still haunted him now.

Erik had glanced over to a book that was on his shelf, as Christine spoke about her father. It was the astrology book he had stolen from a local bookshop that had been on the way home from the church. He hadn't wanted to tell Christine that it was in fact the book he had spoken to her about, it was still a raw memory, to think of the town he had been born in. Usually, Erik would keep to the side streets and the overgrown hedges, staying away from people and prying eyes, but he had seen the book from his hiding place across the street and he wanted it. He had snuck across, remaining in the shadows, and he had slunk into the store, his hand grabbing for it as he ran from the shop all the way home, panting heavily beneath a crudely made mask, never stopping until he got into his attic bedroom and hid the book inside his pillow. He had waited until his mother had gone to bed early, who had showed him a rare kindness by checking to see if he was in his room and not prowling around outside like he did most nights, and he had whipped the book out, getting out of his bed to kneel before his window so that the moonlight would light up his book, and so that he could observe the stars. Night-time had swiftly become Erik's favourite part of the day. It meant he could sneak through the night like a thief, and no-one would be able to see him clearly. Darkness meant safety, but it meant much more to Erik, who would frequently crawl into his mother's room so he would watch her sleep. It was the only time when he did not feel so scared, or so small. He felt human, watching her sleep in front of him, with no fear in her eyes or hate in her heart. Once, he had dared himself to hold her hand, but she had woken up in a rage, throwing her pillows at him as she screamed for him to leave the room, using the same words that the people in the town would call him. _Monster_. He had known then that no woman would ever love him.

Erik could not help but compare Christine to Madeleine. They were similar, in that they were naive and young, but there wasn't much else. It was by pure chance that Christine was here. No-one could have predicted that she was would fall into him. She was still here though, not running away, not screaming, and she was definitely not afraid of him. So why _was_ she here? What was it she saw in him that made him different from the other men in her life?

She had asked if the book had belonged to one of his parents. Erik had been filled with rage at such a question, of course his mother hadn't, but he had then been confused. Why would Christine ask that? But then he realized and was angry at himself for believing that Christine meant harm by those words. She was only curious, trying to get to know him. Her life had been filled with love and acceptance, why would she _not_ think that his parents were the same?

He tried to calmly tell her about his mother, as he pushed the book back into its place. She watched him, pity growing in her eyes as the words fell from his malformed lips. Christine seemed to fire up when he spoke of how she had left him. He remembered it clearly. He had been standing in his bedroom, looking through the window as he watched her lift her suitcases into the back of a pick-up truck that belonged to some man she had met in the local pub.

Erik, feeling lost once more, reached out to Christine, who took his hand and never let go. But then she had asked him something. Something that applied to her, though she probably did not know it. She had asked if Madeleine had stayed, would she have learned to love him. Erik wasn't sure. He had never known love, which he wouldn't have been to recognize even if it had been presented to him on a platter. Who was to say if she would have loved him? She had left him so long ago that it hardly mattered, but now Erik had Christine. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he would not let go, now that they had claimed each other.

Erik tried to change the subject by showing Christine the Koi pond. He had taken great pride with it, and was eager to show Christine how gentle the fish were, by insisting that she feed them by hand. She had seemed perplexed, but eventually got into it when she saw the Koi swimming up to her tiny hands. Erik watched, transfixed as they sucked on her fingers, brushing themselves against her as she smiled.

Erik wished he could have known such happiness. If he had been jealous of the books, then he was doubly so of the fish that had captured Christine's attention.

Nadir appeared soon after, and they all sat beside the pond, eating their sandwiches while Erik pretended not to watch. Christine began looking through her phone, nibbling on the light fluffy sandwiches.

"I've gotten loads of messages since this morning. I haven't even had the chance to properly reply to them all." She said, putting her sandwich down.

"Are they all from your followers?" Nadir asked before taking a bite.

"Not all of them. Some of them are from work." Christine replied. "But I think we should talk about my followers, Erik."

Erik looked up, having been distracted from the way she had crossed her legs to sit in front of him, her plate in her lap.

"What about them?"

Christine smiled, and leaned forward, showing Erik her phone. "Well, they're a pretty curious bunch. And they follow me because they like hearing about me and my day. Once they hear we're dating, they're going to want me to talk about you."

Erik stiffened as he looked at her phone. "What are you going to say?"

Christine laughed. "Well, that's what we're going to talk about. I want to make sure we're on the same level. I want to tell them that we're dating because we're attracted to each other, and I want to tell them all about my day today, and I want to tell them what we're going to do together while I'm here."

Erik brushed his fingers across his chin, trying to adjust it, but Christine's eyes were still focused on him. "You may say whatever you wish, Christine. All I ask that that you keep certain things between us."

Christine took another bite of her sandwich. "I know, Erik, you needn't worry. They're a lovely lot, you'll like them."

Erik was dubious. Being a people person was not Erik's strong point, but one thing he knew about people, is that they were selfish, uncaring and dangerous when in a large group. Not like Christine, who was selfless and loving.

Nadir looked at his watch. "Well, they'll be announcing it now. Shall we watch?"

"No," Erik said, taking Christine's plate from her lap as she finished the last of her sandwich. "We shall not. We know how they're going to react, it's no mystery."

"They might have something to say on how fast we got together." Christine mused as Erik stood up.

"True." Nadir added. "But you can hardly deny that it was meant to be."

Christine and Erik both looked at Nadir, who laughed at their surprise. "C'mon. Everyone can see how you two look at each other. Well, they can see how Christine looks at you." He added as an afterthought.

Christine blushed. "Okay, but we've only really known each other for a day. That's fast for everyone, I think. They'll probably say all sorts of stuff are going on between us."

"Then let them." Erik said, staring into the pond as he held Christine's plate. "We know how we feel."

Christine smiled, standing up before Erik. "Yes, we do."

Nadir shook his head, standing up as well. "Good. So now that's everything is settled, I believe then it should be time for Christine to depart."

Erik sharply looked up at Nadir as Christine tried her hardest not to look too crestfallen. "What?"

"Christine cannot spend every second with you Erik, not matter how much the both of you may want it. You need to show the public how this isn't just some impulse arrangement, and that the both of you are taking this relationship seriously by taking it slow."

"To hell what they think!" Erik said, struggling to hide his frustration. "Christine may stay as long as she wants!"

Christine took Erik's hands. "Erik, if you're serious about this the way I am, then I think we had better do as Nadir says. It's for the best." She looked up at him, smiling. "Besides, we have the rest of the week. And I want to talk to Nadir about something, if that's alright."

Erik looked down at Christine, subdued by her calm nature and reasoning. He did not like the idea of Christine speaking with Nadir privately, however, but he did not let his feelings show. "As you wish. Nadir, would you be so kind as to escort Christine back to her hotel?"

"Of course, Erik." Nadir offered, pulling out his phone to text the driver waiting for them below. "I shall get your stuff, Christine."

Nadir walked over, grabbing Christine's bag as he waited over by the front door as they said their goodbyes.

Erik took Christine's hands, holding her by her fingertips. "I hate to see you go. I wanted to play you some music, or show you my work."

Christine smiled. "I would have enjoyed that. You know, I was going to go out and buy one of your albums today. I wanted to listen to your songs. I can still hear the song that was played during the awards ceremony."

Erik smiled, pleased with her words. She was so sweet, to think of him, but there was one thing was still lingering in the back of his head.

"Christine. You've mentioned that you've dated before, but they had never been anything serious."

"Yes." Christine admitted, nodding. "What about them?"

Erik nervously adjusted his stance, staring down at her. "Would they have become serious, if you had been with them longer?"

Christine laughed. "No, I don't think so. None of them felt right. With you though, it's feels more than right, it feels like fact."

"Like fact?"

"Yeah. Like fact." Christine leaned in, wrapping her tiny arms around Erik's midriff, hugging him, he realized.

He felt a wonderful warm feeling come over him as Christine buried her face once more in Erik's chest. His mother's words hit him once more. _No woman will ever love you_. Panic swamped Erik's mind as he began to doubt Christine's words.

_She's using you. She's after your money and your fame. Why else would she be here? She's manipulated you into a relationship and she will rob you blind._ Erik's mind told him darkly.

_No, she won't. She's pure and whole. She would never hurt me. Never. She cares for me, and she knows I care for her._ Erik argued back. _She will love me. I will make her._

Christine pulled away, still smiling. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"If you wish it." Erik answered, his voice dipping low as he felt depression wash over him. He could not force her affection for him, but she would never feel the same way about him as he did her.

Christine watched him, her eyes squinting as she pursed her lips. She could see that something in him had changed, but chose not to say anything as Erik released her. She changed her mind though as she asked, "Are you regretting this?"

"No, Christine. Erik is just nervous." Erik slipped, referring to himself in the third person, to his horror.

It was a trait of his, one that only surfaced when Erik slithered into one of his foul moods. Christine took a deep breath, her mouth open as she stared at him in confusion. He had felt shame, wondering what she had thought, but Nadir, noticing Erik's swiftly changing mood, quickly brought Christine away from Erik, handing her bag over.

"Goodbye, Erik." Christine said, looking at him with mixed emotions. "I'll be uploading a video to my channel tonight, with any luck, if you want to watch. Do you want a link?"

"No, Christine. I will not require it." Erik said slowly. He already had her channel bookmarked.

"Um, okay." Christine said, fidgeting.

"I would very much like a link, Christine." Nadir asked, casting a quick glance over to Erik, mouthing '_Say goodbye, Erik_'.

Erik stiffly turned to Christine, and bowed his head slightly. "Goodbye, Christine. I enjoyed spending today with you."

Christine smiled, eased by his words, replied, "And I really enjoyed my day with you. Thank you, for everything. It's been wonderful."

_She's just saying that. She's using you._ Erik bit back that thought, and nodded again. "Anytime, _Christine_."

Christine shivered at the pronunciation of her name, and nodded. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Nadir opened the door for Christine, and after making sure she was walking down the hallway, he glared darkly at Erik.

"We will be having words when I get back." Nadir snapped as he shut the door behind him.

Erik could only stare at the door, keeping the image of Christine before she left in his mind. Erik clenched his fists. Why could he never act normally around people? They seemed to bring the worst out in him. Christine seemed to make things worse. He only wanted to impress her, but his nerves and doubts kept ruining his chances with her.

_No woman will ever love you. Christine is no different. She will blind you, hurt you, and rob you of everything you possess, including your senses._

Erik raised Christine's plate, so he could look at it. There was nothing special about it in any way. It was the same as the other plates in his kitchen.

Erik threw the plate against the bookshelf, roaring as he buried his head in his hands, and skulked off to his room, removing his mask as he tortured himself with the idea, the possibility, that Christine may have been tricking him.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing. I would love to see more reviews though, they are the only things that are keeping me going, knowing whether or not you're enjoying the story. Even if it's just to say keeping going, or hi, I would every word you guys send me, and I want to keep reading them!**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Lee Brice's 'Hard To Love'**_

_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_  
_No, I don't make it easy,_  
_I couldn't do it if I stood where you stood._  
_I'm hard to love, hard to love,_  
_You say that you need me,_  
_I don't deserve it but I love that you love me, good._

_I am a short fuse, I am a wrecking ball_  
_Crashing into your heart like I do_  
_You're like a Sunday morning, full of grace and full of Jesus_  
_I wish that I could be more like you._

* * *

Christine stood in the elevator with Nadir, biting her lip as she tried to figure out what had just happened back in Erik's apartment. Erik had acted strangely after he had spoken about his mother. He had become eccentric, withdrawn and oddly possessive of her. Was it because of the memory of his mother, or was there something else that Christine was missing? Maybe he had just been caught up in the moment, being all cuddly with her, and now he was realizing what a mistake he had made by becoming her boyfriend. Maybe he didn't even really like her. Maybe this was all a trick, but how could it be? Erik was so sincere at first, but now he seemed reluctant to even acknowledge her attraction to him. Maybe…

Nadir gently grabbed her arm, holding her still, as she had been apparently fidgeting the moment they had stepped in, and said,

"Calm yourself, Christine. I wouldn't worry about it too much. Erik, while a smart man, can be incredibly simple at times when it comes to the thoughts of others."

"I don't understand though. I thought he was as excited as I was, but he's seems so closed off. I mean, is it because we haven't gotten familiar with each other or-"

"I'd say you're already pretty familiar." Nadir said, smirking.

Christine looked up at him, shocked. "What?"

He looked down at her, smiling tenderly. "You were sitting in his lap and letting him unbraid your hair. I think that counts for you, Christine."

"Oh. Yeah, right." Christine said, sighing as she looked away, biting her lip. "I feel so lost now. I feel so sure of myself when I'm with him, but now all I can worry about is what he thinks of me."

Nadir laughed, clapping Christine on the shoulder, making her jump. "He thinks you're a saint. Just keep doing what you're doing. Believe me, all of this is doing him some good. I haven't seen him act so polite around company."

Christine looked up at Nadir. "What do you mean? What was he like before we met?"

Nadir groaned as he looked up at the slowly changing numbers which indicated which floor they were on. "Well, he was angry most of the time. He hated everyone, me including, and he was depressed as well. He just used to hide in his apartment, every day. Before you, trying to get Erik to talk to a person was like trying to get a mouse to chase a cat. It was awful. "

Christine brushed a hand through her hair, smiling. "So, it's good that we met?"

"Of course. You're doing him a world of good."

"_Good_."

"And you Christine? It's all very well thinking of him, but you must also think of yourself." Nadir advised solemnly. "Is this what you want?"

Christine nodded without thinking. "Yes. I felt a bond with him the moment we met, and I know that if I hadn't have stuck close to him then I would have lost something really important."

Nadir nodded. "Then do not worry. And I can see you're worried about how fast everything is going too and how everyone is going to see it. It's actually rather good that you two are dating this early. The media will be pleased, and they'll have to treat you with respect while you're here."

"I suppose." Christine sighed.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" Nadir asked, concerned.

"No, I want your help." Christine said, reaching into her bag to pull out her phone. "I want to take Erik out on a date. He took me today, so I want to take him tomorrow. I need to ask if you know of somewhere where Erik might feel comfortable."

Nadir watched her, silent.

"What?" Christine asked.

"Nothing." Nadir looked away, smiling. "Why don't you have dinner somewhere? I know a few good places."

"You mean in public." Christine said flatly. "Erik doesn't want-"

"Erik doesn't get to have a say, Christine. Erik thinks he can get away with keeping you with him in his apartment and I daresay that if it was up to you, he'd never let you leave his side."

"But I don't want to order him to do something he doesn't want to. I'm his equal, not his boss." Christine argued.

"Then show him that. Show him that he has to be a normal, functioning member of society, not a recluse who-"

"Nadir," Christine said politely, despite the annoyance she felt. "How would Erik eat?"

Nadir shrugged, checking his phone. "I think he'd be happy to just watch _you_ eat."

Christine pulled a face. "But seriously, what should I do with him? There must be somewhere that Erik would love to go. Has he never spoken of a place?"

"No." Nadir held up his phone for Christine to see. "But I know a few people who would love to see you."

Christine hesitated at the message as she read the first part, fiddling with her fingers as she bit her lip.

'_Congrats! Can't wait to meet the happy couple! Make sure they come, and tell Erik that I want to hear everything. Ciao! Xx'_

"Who is that from?"

"Victoria Mayner."

"_The actress_?" Christine asked in shock, her mouth gaping open. "You know Tori Mayner?"

Nadir smirked. "Yes. There's been a few other messages, but she's the first to invite you both out somewhere."

"Invite us out? Where?"

"To her apartment here in New York. She's putting together a party tomorrow night. Would that be suitable, Miss Daae, for your high standards for dating?" Nadir joked.

Christine turned to face the front of the elevator, taking deep breaths. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why is she holding a party?"

"Oh, spur of the moment, I imagine. That and I think she's curious about you. Erik and Victoria met briefly a few years ago when Erik was writing the soundtrack for one of her films. I think a lot of people will be curious about the both of you, so you might find a lot of people will try to invite you to things such as this!"

"And would Erik like that?" Christine asked, fumbling with her bag as she dropped her phone back in. "I mean, he hates people and crowds, so is a party really the best way for Erik and I to get to know each other better?"

"Christine, you are not his mother. You shouldn't have to baby him through life. He needs to learn that now he has re-entered society, with you on his arm, that there are fences that he must jump in order to keep you around."

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal a tall, dark haired woman dressed in a semi-professional suit, holding a clipboard with several sheets on. She was putting away her phone, her attention focused on Nadir.

"I have the forms you required, Mr Kahn." She said, handing them over as she stepped out of the way for both Christine and Nadir to step out.

"Thank you, Miss Sorrelli." Nadir said, taking the forms from her as she handed him a pen to sign the documents.

Christine stood on the other side of Nadir as he thumbed through the sheets. She watched the woman with interest, who was clearly interested in her as well, and asked,

"Do you work with Nadir?"

"I am Mr Kahn's assistant."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Christine Daae." She offered, holding up her hand.

The woman looked at the wavering hand before her, and lightly took it. "Anna Sorrelli. I watched you at the awards last night. You looked wonderful."

"Oh, thanks." Christine said, grinning. "I did until I fell on top of Erik. Then I just looked like an idiot."

Sorrelli smiled reservedly. "But you had fun."

Christine nodded. "Yeah, loads."

Sorrelli smiled broadly now, her hands crossed over the front of her skirt as she waited for Nadir to finish writing his signature. Her smile disappeared when Nadir looked up, and her face took on a more surprised appearance with Nadir's next few words.

"Tomorrow, I want you to take Miss Christine shopping for a new dress. Eveningwear, please, Miss Sorrelli."

"Yes, Sir." Sorrelli answered, taking the clipboard from him dutifully, giving Christine a sly smile.

"Nadir, honestly, I have another dress in my suitcase. Not as glam as my dress from last night, sure, but it'll do." Christine said, rolling her eyes.

"You'll need to look your best, oh, and take her to a salon as well, Miss Sorrelli." Nadir added, before returning his attention to Christine. "You need to be stunning, or they won't take you seriously. Right now, they all think that you're just some kid fresh off the coach, but after tomorrow night, they're going to see you as a star in your own right."

Christine didn't feel as hopeful as Nadir, who now escorted the two of them over to a rather flash looking car that Christine didn't know the name of. He opened the door for Christine, allowing her to slip into the back. Christine seated herself, placing her bag down as she looked up and out of the car. Nadir had already shut the door, and was speaking to his assistant about something.

Christine sighed, pulling out a discarded water bottle from her bag. She sipped on it as she waited for Nadir to join her.

Was what she was doing right? She felt odd about having to go dress shopping for a party. She didn't often go out clothes shopping, quite happy with the clothes she possessed, and to do it for a party seemed like a waste when her little black dress was waiting back in her hotel room in her suitcase. Furthermore, she would be meeting celebrities, and in an intimate fashion. This was certainly not what she had been expecting when he had imagined herself with Erik. She had only expected the media to be their biggest confrontation, but she hadn't even thought about how associating herself with Erik would make her a celebrity, or how other celebrities would want to find out for themselves what she was like. Maybe they would laugh at her. Maybe they would laugh at them both, like they did at the awards ceremony.

Nadir got in, and saw Christine's worried face. "Oh what _now_? I swear, the two of you are going to drive me crazy. Listen, I'll pay for the dress, and whatever else Miss Sorrelli sees fit-"

"That's not what I'm worried about." She said, frowning. "I'm worried that something will happen at the party, and Erik will be hurt."

"A light heart runs longer." Nadir said, pressing a button to alert his driver. "The Winchester, Paul."

Christine looked up at the driver's name, but ignored it as she asked, "What does that mean?"

"It means that you should both relax and let the river run smooth. What will happen, will happen. You'll be there to protect Erik, and he'll be there to protect you. You have nothing to fear. Nothing will happen to the both of you because I will be there as well, if you wish."

Christine nodded. "Yes, please. I think that would help Erik relax."

"And you?"

"And me, too." Christine agreed.

During the car ride, Christine mostly sat and thought to herself as she remember the way Erik's fingers had caressed themselves through her hair. It had been pleasant for both of them, and Christine wondered what his fingers were like. She had never seen them, as he constantly wore gloves. She wanted to press her palms to his, and trap his fingers between hers. She looked down at her own hands, and they seemed so small, now that he wasn't holding her. Arriving back at the hotel had been less relaxing that she had imagined. A flurry of reporters surrounded their car, trying to peer through the tinted glass. Nadir got out, and Christine, stunned, watched in surprise as Nadir walked around to her side of the car and opened the door for her. There were some security guards holding back a few members of the press, but their arms still reached out towards Christine, as she sat nervously in her seat, looking up at Nadir.

He mouthed to her, "_Relax_."

She nodded, and took his offered hand, and got out, nervously smiling to the reporters as she brushed some of her hair behind her ear, waving to them as Nadir shut the door behind her. They said their goodbyes, and Christine calmly walked into the hotel, her mouth a silent 'o' as she tried to walk over to the elevator. Her heart was racing, and her ears were ringing from all of the shouting.

"Miss Daae!" A voice shouted from across the lobby.

Christine looked up to see Meg Giry lightly skipping across the hotel lobby in her high heels. She was wearing a huge grin on her face as she joined Christine's side.

"Hello again." Christine said, smiling.

"Hi. There have been a few messages waiting for you, since you left."

"Oh, okay." Christine said as Meg revealed a few notecards and handed them to her. She would look at them in her room, she decided.

"Did you have a good day, Miss Daae?"

"Please, it's Christine." She said, smiling. "And yes, I had a wonderful day, thank you for asking. Did you?"

Meg's look of surprise was quickly covered with a smile. "It was pretty good. Everyone just wants to say congrats for you and Mr Destler."

Meg pointed over to some other members of staff, who were watching them both with interest. Christine waved to them, and some of them waved back.

"Oh, that's so nice of you all, thank you." Christine said, smiling brightly.

"Well, we all hope that you enjoy the rest of your stay here." Meg added, smiling as she walked with Christine over to the elevators, pressing the call button for her.

"Cheers." Christine thanked, waving goodbye to Meg as she entered the elevator.

Christine stumbled into her room, sliding her feet out of her shoes with some difficulty, her bag dropping onto the floor as she lay on her bed, staring at the pillow she had left on her chair earlier that morning. She got up, grabbing it as she flopped back onto the bed, and held it close to her, hugging it as she smiled to herself. She pretended it was Erik again. She held it close to her with one arm as she rolled onto her stomach, reaching into her back pocket where the messages that Meg had given her were. She pulled them out, a few spilling everywhere, so she picked one at random to read. It was from a magazine that wanted to do an interview with her. She flung it across the room, much like a skipping stone, and picked up another. It was another magazine requesting an interview, but with a photo shoot as well. She found most of them were the same, all asking her to stand up and perform for them. She wouldn't do it, not for all of the money in the world, she thought, pressing her lips to her pillow gently.

There was one message, however, that drew Christine's attention.

_'For your safety, we must talk.'_

Christine didn't know if the message was serious. There was a phone number underneath the sentence, but Christine was under the impression that it would just be another magazine trying to get her to talk to them. It wouldn't hurt just to see, would it? Maybe it was urgent. They had specified that it was for her own safety. She picked up the bedroom phone, and typed in the number. She would stay silent, she figured, until she knew what was going on.

There were a few rings, until the person picked up.

"Hello?"

It was just a person. "Um, hi? This is Christine Daae."

"Ah, Miss Daae, thank you for calling."

"What is this about?" Christine asked, growing more concerned by the second, as it was now apparent from the tone of the woman's voice that whoever it was, did not work for a magazine.

"My name is Carlotta Giudicelli. You know of me?"

Christine sat upright, her breath catching in her throat as she said, "Yes! You performed last year in London in Tosca! I wanted to get tickets but I had to work every night that week and I-"

Carlotta cleared her voice, and Christine got the impression that she was trying to speed up the conversation. Christine stopped talking, sitting on her bed with the phone to her ear as she listened to Carlotta speak. Christine couldn't believe it. One of the greatest sopranos in the world was talking to _her_.

"Yes, well. No doubt you are eh, _curious_, as to why I have asked you to call me?"

"Yes, I am." Christine admitted.

"Then we should meet soon, so I can tell you." Carlotta said, hinting that she wanted to meet in person.

"Um, does the danger you speak of present an immediate threat?" Christine asked nervously.

Carlotta hesitated, unable to answer such a simple question, and Christine interrupted her before she was about to say something.

"Then, you will have to forgive me, but I'm only here for a few days, and I want to spend as much time enjoying myself while I'm here, you see? I don't want to waste either of our time." Christine said politely. "So if the danger is imminent, I would appreciate you telling me over the phone."

"Perhaps you do not want my help." Carlotta said sourly.

"I don't know if I require it yet." Christine countered, getting irritated with Carlotta's strange way of treating her. "I might be able to handle it on my own."

"You will need it when it comes to Erik." Carlotta said dispassionately. "He has a terrible temper you know."

Christine was fuming. So _that_ was what this was about. The night before, when Christine had been researching Erik, Carlotta's name had come up a few times in relation to Erik, but she hadn't found the reason why. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just assume that I don't know how to handle myself, alright? I'm from London, _mate_." Christine said, her accent becoming more apparent as she argued with the phone. "Me and Erik are fine, and we certainly don't need anyone telling us what to do. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to hang up now."

Christine slammed the phone down, and then buried her face in her hands. Christine had never been very good with arguments. Her speech had started out well, but then it had gone downhill as Christine panicked with coming up with an insult, so she just bailed herself out of the argument and felt nothing but embarrassment. She cringed, curling her toes as she realized that she had just shouted at Carlotta Giudicelli, and there would be repercussions.

Christine looked up, suddenly. Maybe it would get out into the news. Maybe Erik would see it and would be embarrassed as well.

Christine moaned, drawing her knees up to her chest, toes still curled as she buried her face in her knees. Why couldn't Christine get anything right? She groaned as she remembered she still had to make a video and upload it before she went to bed. She reached into her bag, feeling less like she wanted to make a video, but she would have to suck it up for now. She owed her followers a video, and she would make one, come hell or high water.

* * *

**Thank you for all of your comments, they've been amazing. I would love to see more reviews though, they are the only things that are keeping me going, knowing whether or not you're enjoying the story. Even if it's just to say keeping going, or hi, I would every word you guys send me, and I want to keep reading them!**

**I'd love to see more reviews, or any comments or questions! I have a whole story planned out for this so please, do ask. Thank you so much! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Jaron and the Long Road to Love's 'Pray for You'**_

_Haven't been in church since_  
_I dont remember when_  
_Things were going great_  
_Til they fell apart again_

_So I listened to the preacher_  
_As he told me what to do_  
_Said you can't go hating others_  
_who done wrong to you_

_Sometimes we get angry_  
_But we must not condemn_  
_Let the good Lord do his job_  
_And you just pray for them_

* * *

Nadir entered Erik's apartment easily, looking around as he was nowhere to be seen. There was a shattered plate strewn across the floor, and a few books knocked out of place, but apart from that, there wasn't anything else that appeared to have been disturbed. Nadir grumbled at the sight of the mess. That was Erik's work then. Nadir could hear noise coming from Erik's bedroom, so he slowly approached it, rapping his knuckles against the door as he waited for a response. There was none. He knocked harder, and heard something stir inside.

"Come now Erik, we have much to talk about." Nadir said, sighing. "I want an explanation as to why you spoke to Christine so plainly before."

"…Nadir?"

"No, it's God." Nadir joked, rolling his eyes.

"Then you have a lot to account for." Erik muttered back menacingly.

Nadir could hear Erik moving about and there was a subtle click that told him that Erik had put on his mask. Nadir took a step back from the door as he heard footsteps drawing near, and tried to keep a calm face as Erik, looking slightly dishevelled, emerged.

"I got Christine to the hotel but there were reporters." Nadir said, walking over to the couch to seat himself. He glared at Erik, who stood in the doorway, watching him back.

"Sit down before I make you." Nadir warned.

Erik shamefully joined Nadir on the couch, burying his head in his hands. "Forgive me, I was rotten."

"It is not my forgiveness you should be asking for, it's hers." Nadir snapped, but took a deep breath, and continued. "But it doesn't matter. She forgave you the moment she left."

"What did she say?"

"In regards to how you spoke to her, as though she was just another person on the street? Not much. She was confused, but I managed to ease her mind."

"Thank you." Was all Erik managed, his head still buried in his hands.

Nadir smiled. It wasn't often Erik spoke those words, so he took a moment to enjoy it. "You're welcome, Erik. Now, would _you_ like to tell me what is wrong?"

Erik looked up at Nadir's emphasis on the word 'you', and asked, "Is Christine…?"

"She's fine. She was just nervous about a few things, that's all."

"Such as?"

Nadir sighed, leaning back in his seat as he unbuttoned his jacket, so he could sit comfortably. "She said she was worried about what you thought of her. She also said that she was worried that something might happen and that you would get hurt, but that would be in regards to tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yes. It was what Christine wanted to talk to me about."

Erik sat up straighter. "I forgot about that. What is happening tomorrow that has her so concerned? What have you told her?"

Nadir pressed his hands against his chest in a form of mock shock. "Me? You're the one who said you didn't want to watch her video."

Erik tilted his head to one side to show his confusion. "I never said that."

"You _did_! You said you didn't want her link."

"No, I said I didn't require it. I already have it. It's still on my computer from last night."

"Ah, _that's_ what you meant." Nadir said. "The way you said it made it sound as though you weren't interested in seeing it."

Erik groaned, dropping his head. "No wonder the girl is confused. I shall never be able to act normally around her. But what is this about tomorrow night?"

"Christine wanted to ask me where a good place to take you for a date would be. I didn't have any ideas, but thankfully, fate stepped in and provided an opportunity for the both of you."

"She… she is planning a date for us?"

"Yes, you idiot."

"Which was?"

Nadir smiled like a fox. "I don't know if I want to tell you. I think it will be a lot more amusing to see your reaction."

"You shall see none of it with this mask on." Erik replied irritably.

Nadir laughed, leaning forward as he slapped Erik on the back, making him flinch. "Erik, you must relax. It is a good thing. She's going shopping tomorrow with Sorrelli to make sure she's suitably dressed for it."

"Would you stop with your riddles and tell me?"

"All I will say, is that you will have to be sociable, and on your best behavior."

"Oh God, what fresh horrors have you in store for me now?"

Nadir grinned as Erik leant back against the couch, staring at the empty spot between them where Christine had once sat.

"_Now_ can we discuss what was on your mind earlier?"

Erik turned away from Nadir, his hands twitching as he pressed them to his lips. "It was nothing. A thought that crossed my mind, but it is gone now."

"Now, Erik, I can tell when something is bothering you. It's to do with Christine."

Erik turned back around, eager to ask, "She is… she is serious, isn't she? This isn't a trick?"

"I wish it was. At least then I could explain why she's so attached to you." Nadir said, attempting some light humor.

"No, I mean, She is … _real_, isn't she?" Erik asked. "I'm not imagining it all, am I? I'm not being mislead?"

Nadir groaned, looking around the room as he remembered something. "No, you are not. This isn't like Carlotta."

Nadir stood up, walking around to the back of the couch, kneeling down to deftly pick up the pieces of the smashed plate. "Every day, I've checked in on you, trying to get you to go outside, enjoy life, and meet people. Every day for nearly 10 years. She comes along, and after one day, she's already gotten you outside, interacting with the human race _and_ she's gotten you to open up and talk about yourself. I can't believe that I once thought that you would never meet anyone. And now look at you, you have a girlfriend. You have no idea how happy I am for you."

"Which is why I'm concerned." Nadir continued, holding up the largest piece of the plate, to show Erik. "You see, for as long as I've known you, you have never once _truly_ enjoyed a person's presence. There have been those that have amused you, but you would always lose interest. I dread the day that you lose interest in me."

Nadir stood up, inspecting each piece. "Another thing I know about you, is that you've never been one to control your emotions. You let the smallest of details define your thoughts and opinions. You don't look at the big picture. You pick at the smallest imperfections."

"Your point, Nadir?" Erik asked, crossing his arms as he drummed his fingers along his arm.

"_My point_, is that you're obsessing too much about whether or not Christine really wants to be with you, instead of just going with it and appreciating it. You won't unwind and you just get yourself all worked up."

"My…My mind. I can feel it slipping." Erik said anxiously. "It tells me things. Things I don't wish to hear."

Nadir could feel the terror and panic roll off of Erik like waves on a shore. He seemed to be crumbling before Nadir's very own eyes. There had been a time, not so long ago, when Erik had said those very same words to Nadir, back in Iran. Back then, those words had led to some terrible deeds, ones that still haunted the both of them, but during that time, Erik had revelled in the madness he had created for the Iranian government, despite having been kidnapped and forced to do their bidding. It had been a distressing time, not only for Erik's victims, but for his sanity as well. Erik had been addicted to morphine, crushing the pills daily into his alcohol, and day by day, Nadir had watched as Erik grew more and more vicious, uncaring and he had been far more _peculiar_ than what Christine had seen so far.

Nadir took a deep breath, placing the broken pieces on the coffee table as he sat himself beside the masked genius.

"Erik. Those days are over. You have nothing to fear anymore. You have Christine now." Nadir consoled, smiling at him wanly.

"I see her. She's still smiling at me, she never stops!" Erik cried, covering the mask's eyes with his fingertips.

"Then maybe you should smile back at her." Nadir suggested. "It's hard for her to read you right now. She's been used to reading expressions off of people's face, so maybe she ought to-"

"If you speak another word I shall make it so you never speak again." Erik warned, his grief filled voice soon overtaken by impatience as Erik realized the implication of his words.

"But Erik, you can see that she's not even interested in your face. She's curious about _you_."

"Then let it stay that way. I will not risk breaking her, Nadir."

"Fine. _Fine_. Be stubborn, see if I care!" Nadir harrumphed, crossing his arms. "But she'll never completely trust you. There will come a point when she will want to know."

"I won't let her know."

"Oh? And what about when you will want to kiss her?"

Erik said nothing. No doubt he was trying to imagine such a thing.

"Will you remove your mask then?"

"I.." Erik shook his head at his loss of words. "It won't matter. She'll be gone before then."

Nadir furrowed his brow. "You mean back to England? What's to stop you from following her?"

"Everything, Nadir. _Everything_." Erik moaned, standing up. "She has her whole life ahead of her filled with light and goodness. I am the stain that will ruin her."

"I doubt she sees it like that." Nadir countered, watching Erik walk over to the pond. "What was she like on the yacht?"

Erik held his hands behind his back, staring deeply into the pool. "She was beautiful. She let me hold her in my arms, _twice_, and she did not pull away." Erik turned his head slightly in Nadir's direction, but did not look at him. "She said it felt safe."

Nadir smiled. "Then why do you doubt her words? Trust me when I say, you both as mad for each other." He stood up, looking at his watch. "But if you will excuse me Erik, I have some things to attend to, so I must be off."

Erik spun around. "Things such as?"

"Well, believe or not, some of us actually do work. I have to manage every one of your businesses and it isn't easy."

"Maybe you should get an assistant?"

"I have one, Erik."

"Then perhaps another one?"

"The both of us can handle it just fine." Nadir said as Erik approached him.

"If you insist." Erik said jovially. "If you change your mind though…"

Nadir pursed his lips. Erik's mood swings was the one thing that Nadir couldn't handle. Erik could go from cloud nine to Hell and back again. Christine had only seen a small portion of Erik's vast personality, but she seemed to be doing fine, in Nadir's opinion. And Christine did say she felt safe with him on the yacht.

"How _was_ the yacht, by the way?" Nadir asked, pausing at the door.

"Very good. We enjoyed ourselves, at least."

"That is fortunate news. I will see you tomorrow, Erik." Nadir said, clapping his friend on the arm as he left the apartment, feeling better than he had when he entered it.

* * *

Carlotta shrieked as the foolish girl on the other end of the phone hung up, her foul London accent invading Carlotta's mind as she hung up as well.

"Bitch." Carlotta swore, instantly disliking the girl.

She would get what was coming to her. Maybe then the little slug would regret turning down her help. Not that Carlotta wanted to help the little girl, she wanted revenge. It had been five years since she had last seen the masked freak. They had met at a gala, one that didn't particularly stick out in Carlotta's mind, and she had seen him from across the room. Seizing the opportunity, she had waltzed up to him, putting on her best smile and her most seductive perfume, and had hung around him all night, laughing at his ill-humored jokes, smiling at him, touching his arm, brushing herself up against him whenever she could. She could tell he was attracted to her, most men and women were, and it was her most powerful asset. She had told him about her singing, and he had seemed interested, vaguely recalling her recently released album. He admitted that he had listened to it, and gave a show of wanting to teach her how to control her breathing, but Carlotta knew it was a ploy to get her back to his apartment. All men were full of such plots and schemes to bed a woman.

So she had gone, knowing full well that if she played it right, then she would be attached to one of the biggest, most mysterious and highly sought after musicians in the world. She would only get more famous with every second she spent with him, and she was determined to branch out into films, television and so much more. She knew she was destined for greatness.

So they had arrived at his apartment, later that evening. She hadn't been that impressed by the place, it was small, and full of books. There was even a disgusting pond _inside_ his home. What kind of idiot, she had asked herself, put a pond inside a building?

She had only grown more annoyed as he stiffly showed her into his music room, where he actually tried to teach her how to breath. She had gotten insulted, but tried to brush it off as she sidled up to him. She had reached into his suit, her arms slinking around his body as she pushed herself against him. He had fumbled in his seat, torn between taking her, and some other emotion that she couldn't place.

But then she had reached up to try and remove his mask. He had turned on her, grabbing her throat and squeezing it tightly as they crashed to the floor. She had struggled for breath, clasping at his mask, kicking her legs as he towered over her, screaming at her. She had blacked out, but not before someone appeared in the doorway.

She had woken up in the hospital, her manager sitting beside her. It was all over, she had realized. Her dreams of becoming a real star had been dashed. Both Erik and his manager had already paid off her lawyers, as well as the media, so she couldn't even make him pay. But that hadn't been the worst news. The worst news had been that her windpipe had been crushed; it would take some time before she could ever sing again. It had been then, sitting in the hospital bed as her manager fabricated some delusional story about how she had gotten into an accident and was recovering slowly, that she swore on her ancestors that she would make Erik pay for the crime he had committed of destroying her career, as well as her dreams.

Carlotta put her phone back into her handbag, as she continued to peruse the selection of shoes laid out before her. They were beautiful, but nothing seemed more beautiful than destroying Erik. And if the girl got in the way, then the more the merrier. She was a foolish girl, who Carlotta would not grieve for if harm came to her. Carlotta _had_ hoped that the girl would be co-operative, that maybe the girl had the same hopes and dreams as Carlotta had, so many years ago, and wouldn't mind breaking the masked man. They could have worked together, and brought the disgusting and perverted little man down onto his knees.

She smiled, pointing to a pair of black shoes with a deadly sharp heel. The shop girl picked them up, adding them to the other selection of shoes as she meekly smiled. Carlotta ignored her.

She liked the thought of Erik being so in love with a such a simpleton. It only made it easier for Carlotta to plan her vendetta against him. The girl was only an added bonus. Now that they had talked, Carlotta felt no qualms about using her, and then throwing her away. Carlotta could see, as could many of the other celebrities that had been at the Court One music awards, that Erik was enamored with the girl, clearly worshipping the ground she walked on. Maybe then, Carlotta would just have to make the ground quake a little.

* * *

**Thank you so much! For all of your lovely messages! They're the only thing that have convinced me to carry on with this story!**

**Please do leave a review, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me!**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Vanessa Amorosi's 'Gossip'**_

_Remember my name and look me up,  
I got Facebook and Twitter we could link up,  
I don't read, the rumors and what they say,  
'Cuz i'm a pretty normal person in every way.  
_

_I'm giving you my name just write it down,  
Or we could take a pretty picture of me now,  
I think you'd be surprised by all my friends,  
And all the videos of me 'cuz i like to dance._

* * *

Christine woke up feeling refreshed and alert, holding her pillow lightly as she smiled. She pulled it closer to her, and kissed it.

"Good morning Erik." She said, sitting up.

She stared at the pillow, slightly crinkled, and sighed happily to herself as she began to smooth out the wrinkles. She had a _boyfriend_. Words could not express the joy and delight she found herself in. Everything had happened so fast, but she couldn't wait to see what the future had in store for her. She got out of bed and switched on her laptop, checking for any new messages that interested her. She had uploaded her video the night before, deleting her first cut, which she had edited to include her little speech from the morning before, and had made a new introduction. She watched the video, smiling to herself.

Christine face appeared centered on the screen. She had waved brightly, and said, "Hi guys. I know you're all going crazy for news from me about everything that's happened in the last two days. All I'm going to say is that Erik and I are serious about our feelings. We like each other, immensely, but we want our privacy when we're together. I know you'll all laughing at me, so _stop_." She warned warmly. "I'm not going to reveal all sorts of juicy gossip; I just want to let you know that you won't be seeing much of Erik, if any. He's _not _going to change my videos, and I'm _not_ gonna change him. Cos we like each other the way we are."

She had grinned, enthusiastically, and continued. "I bet you guys are psyched though. I have some good footage for you though. I've even got some stuff filmed from when Erik and I were on the yacht near the Statue of Liberty, so enjoy!"

The rest of the video had shown her journey from London to New York, from getting on the airplane to arriving to the hotel. She added in the video that she had taken of her in front of the Statue of Liberty, where she tried to flick the statue from her shoulder, which made Christine smile wondrously as she happily recalled the day before. It had been the best day she had ever had in such a long time. She scrolled down, reading some of the comments. There were plenty of them now. She had just hit 14,000 views, and she had found that nearly 2,500 people had subscribed to her channel in the last day. She wasn't sure how to feel. Her original followers had been engrossed with her story, wanting to know every detail, but these new followers didn't even know her. They didn't want to know her, they wanted to know about her involvement with Erik, and that was something that Christine wasn't too pleased about.

She spent the rest of the morning showering, getting dressed, smiling towards her pillow. She blushed, turning away from the pillow as she reasoned with herself that there was no need to be so shy in front of it, but changing into her favourite skirt and top in front of it felt weird to her. There came a knock at the door shortly after, and Christine opened it to reveal Meg, looking happy to see her, with a lady that Christine assumed to be housekeeping from her outfit, who was carrying a vase filled with pink and yellow tinted roses.

"Uh, hi Meg. How are things?" Christine asked, bemused, after saying hello to the other lady, who shuffled in her place as she smiled back. "Do you … want to come in?"

"Thank you, I'm fine. I'm here on business." Meg said, smiling at Christine. "Mr Destler has requested that I accompany you today. He understands that you are spending the day shopping with Mr. Kahn's assistant, and he has offered you his card and his limousine."

Meg held up a red folder, and opened it to reveal some papers, and a dark blue credit card. Christine stood in shock, stammering over her words as she held up her hands waving them about to dissuade Meg from continuing.

"I don't need it. I want to take a taxi, and I have my own money."

"Nonetheless, I feel that Mr Destler would much prefer that I accompany you." Meg said, smiling as she gestured to the housekeeping lady to place the roses inside Christine's room.

"But don't you have work? I don't want you to lose a paycheck just to _babysit _me." Christine said, stepping to one side to let the woman in.

"Mr Destler has graciously given me a substantial tip." Meg smirked. "But I would have done it for free anyway."

"Oh, it'll be nice to have some company then. At least someone that I _kinda _know. Let me get my things." Christine said, turning around to get her stuff.

She paused before the roses, wiping her fingers across the pink and yellow hued petals. "Is this from him as well?"

"Yes. They're beautiful, aren't they?" Meg said softly.

"Extremely." Christine replied, burying her face into the roses.

"Shall we get going then?" Meg asked, guiding Christine out of the room, beginning to relax as she slowly dropped her professional guise, and eased into her normal, everyday personality. "So, I know a few good spots, light on the wallet but heavy in fashion..."

Christine grinned along with Meg as they continued chatting on their way down to the lobby, where Miss Sorrelli was waiting for them. Sorrelli eyed Meg suspiciously, clutching her folder possessively as she spied Meg's folder.

"I wasn't informed that there would be someone joining us." Sorrelli said sharply.

"Oh, I'm sorry. This is Meg, she works here." Christine said. "Erik has asked that she joins us. That's okay, right?"

Sorrelli breathed out of her nose, giving a soft groan. "Very well. We should start by going to Cambert. Their selection of dresses are suitable for your needs-"

And the day went as Sorrelli planned, though Meg did try to suggest some other places that she felt would be more Christine's type. Sorrelli seemed irritated, but did her best to hide her annoyance, especially when Christine announced that she wanted to ride in a taxi. The three of them waited in the lobby as the reception called for a taxi to appear around the back of the hotel.

Christine was bored, listlessly watching Meg and Sorrelli browse through some dresses. The store had been emptied just for them, and there were reporters lingering around the front of the shop, with some interested passer-by's. She sighed, adjusting her chin's placement as it rested on her palm, as Meg approached her.

"C'mon Christine, don't you want to try anything on?"

"Not really. I mean, I thought I was excited, but now I can't stop thinking about Erik. I wish hadn't offered me his card."

"You realize that Mr. Kahn offered you his as well." Sorrelli spoke up, admiring a long green dress, looking up as she smirked.

Christine pursed her lips. "I should have remembered that, it didn't occur to me until now." She sighed, sitting up, splaying her hands out in frustration. "This is crazy. I have a perfectly good dress, I don't see why I can't _wear_ it."

"You know, most girls would tear their eyes out to get a hold of these dresses." Sorrelli said, striding over in her high heels to hand Christine a dress. "I like that you aren't like that. You're a lot different than I imagined."

Meg nodded, agreeing. "Same here. You meet all sorts of snobs, full of themselves and just so rude. It's nice getting to hang out with you."

"Thanks," Christine said, taking the dress from Sorrelli. "It's nice doing this kind of stuff with someone. I don't usually go clothes shopping with someone else."

"You don't have any friends back home?" Meg asked.

"Kind of. I have my work friends, but they're just that. I mean, we get on great, but they're not exactly the kind of people I would want to hang out with after work, except for Raoul, who is possibly the only friend I have outside of my videos."

"What's he like? Is he like all British boys?" Meg asked, clearly under the impression that English boys were like princes, as she stared off dreamily.

"I guess. He is a bit of a gent. Most boys back home are just normal, but I guess that's the same everywhere." Christine answered honestly. "He's great though, he always has a cup of tea waiting for me when I get into work."

Sorrelli and Meg exchanged looks, and Christine caught them, asking "What?"

"Nothing." Sorrelli said, and Meg also chose not to say anything.

"I think this would look good if you had your hair up. You could get some pins, maybe some pearl drop twists to highlight your eyes." Meg said, holding up a light blue lace dress.

Christine had to admit, Meg was right. She handed the green dress back to Sorrelli, and held up Meg's dress to her body. It fell just short of her knees, and the lace work _was_ beautiful.

"Yes, I agree." Sorrelli added, pressing a manicured tipped finger to her lips. "Maybe a simple necklace as well, with your hair up? We don't want to draw people's eyes away from your face."

"Actually, I would like my hair down. That's how Erik likes it." Christine said, smiling as she bit her lip as she remembered the way his hands had brushed through her hair, again. "Let me go try it on."

An hour later, they were sitting in a salon, each getting their nails done, as they continued to talk. Christine's new dress, which she had bought herself, to Sorrelli's annoyance and Meg's amusement, lay in a white cardboard bag at her feet, where a woman was filing her toenails and painting them a light grey. Christine tried not to fidget in her seat as Sorrelli used a small, thin pen to scroll through her messages, sitting to Chrisinte' left, having her toes painted as well. She had been coerced, after Meg and Christine both felt embarrassed by the way that she stood over them, like an overprotective mother. Meg was just relaxing, sitting comfortably as someone worked on her toes, reading a magazine.

"I liked that video you did on myths about space, that one was really cool." Meg said, continuing their discussion from earlier, about Christine's channel.

"Thanks, I worked pretty hard on the paper mache planets." Christine joked, recalling as she had made an afternoon making and then painting the moon, to demonstrate that there actually was no dark side of the moon, as well making the other planets in the solar systems to show a myth for each of them.

"So, are you planning on doing any more videos while you're over here? I caught the one you uploaded last night." Sorrelli asked, looking up from her phone.

"I don't know. I did have a whole week planned out, but now that I've met Erik, I just want to spend every second with him."

"So what is he like?" Meg asked nervously. "I've only met him twice, and it wasn't for very long."

"Well, without revealing _too_ much," Christine began. "He's lovely. He's been so nice, so accommodating. He's such a fascinating person, and he's a genius. I feel like a new person in front of him, and it's so nice to be able to unwind in front of him. Before, with other guys, I just felt like another girl on the street, but Erik makes me feel special. I feel like the only woman in the world when he looks at me."

"When he looks you?" Meg asked, confused. "How can you tell he's looking at you? That mask must make it pretty hard to tell what he's even thinking."

"Not really, if it's aimed towards me, I know his eyes are solely on me. I don't need to see his face to know what he's thinking." Christine made a slight noise, and corrected herself. "That's not true, sometimes I have no idea what he's thinking. As much as I don't care about his face, it's hard trying to read him."

"Do you wanna see under it?" Meg asked, curiously.

Christine thought about it. While it had crossed her mind, she had never really dwelt on the idea. "I don't know. I am curious, but it's not that important to me. Right now, I just want to get to know him. I think that in time, maybe he'll open up to me, but I don't want to force his hand."

"That is a wise decision." Sorrelli said, putting down her phone. "Mr Destler has always been a private man, and I think he would appreciate the way you speak of him. You seem to be a very honest, open young lady."

"Um, thanks, I guess?" Christine replied, laughing through her nose. "But that's only how I would want to be treated. Everyone has their little peculiarities, it's just that some are easy to see and some are hard to find. I think Erik just has both."

"That's so nice." Meg said warmly, as the woman who had been painting her toe nails moved onto her finger nails.

"Do you think he'll ever appear in your videos?" Sorrelli asked.

"I want him to, because it's a big part of my life, and leaving him out of it seems wrong, but he doesn't even show interest in it. I know he's camera shy, and shy of people too, but I want to share it with him. I want to share everything with him, but he seems so tightly strung that it would take forever to unwind him." Christine said, as her hairdresser appeared. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Maybe one day he'll feel brave enough to join in, but until then, I'll let him do what he wants. I'm here to improve his life, not change it."

"So then, what are you going to do for your video for the next ... four days is it? You'll want to spend every day with him, but you still have to make your videos." Asked Meg, looking at Christine as rose up off her chair to follow the hairdresser over to another seat.

"I'm not sure. I think I'm just going to swing it for now. Besides, the reporters seem to be doing a pretty good job of cataloguing everything. It's nice to take a break." She said, looking over to the large windows, where a steadily increasing mass of people with camera phones and video cameras recorded every second of their conversation, though they couldn't hear them. Christine raised a hand and waved to them, and several reporters fired off more shots. She grinned, and turned back to her new seat, and sat herself down.

"They're going to follow you all week, doesn't that bother you?" Sorrelli inquired.

"Well yeah, of course it does, but they're only doing their job, I can't really fault them for that. They have been warned that we do want our privacy when together, but when I'm alone, there's nothing I can do to stop them. They're trying to earn money, and if snapping a few shots of me getting my hair made up gets them that money, then I say go for it. Besides, not every girl gets to see herself in a magazine. I might as well enjoy it before I go back to London."

"You don't think that they'll follow you home?" Sorrelli asked doubtfully. "The longer you continue your relationship with Mr. Destler, the longer they will be around."

"Then let them. Like I said, they're doing their job."

"Fair enough." Meg said, looking over to the reporters.

Christine looked at her reflection in the mirror in front of her. She was nervous, now that she was thinking about going back home to London. Would Erik come visit her? Would he want to? Would he even be able to? She hadn't considered that maybe asking him to visit her in London would be a near impossibility. He probably wouldn't want to get on a plane and stay in a hotel just to wait for her to get off work. Christine tried not to think about it. Long distance relationships never worked.

* * *

**Thank you so much! For all of your lovely messages! They're the only thing that convince me to carry on with this story!**

**Please do leave a review, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me!**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Eternals 'Power of a Woman'**_

_It can make a a man feel like a king_  
_Or feel just like a clown_  
_It can make him run for cover_  
_Or stay and stand his ground_  
_It can make a man pick up the bottle_  
_Or help him lay it down_  
_It can stop his whole world from turning_  
_Or turn his whole world around_

_That's the power of a woman_  
_It's the touch of her hand_  
_One smile, one tear, one whisper in your ear_  
_That's the power of a woman_

_It can make a man beg for Jesus_  
_Or make him wish he'd never asked_  
_It can make him dream about the future_  
_Or make a nightmare of his past_

* * *

Erik had, unbeknownst to Christine, watched her video. He couldn't help himself, browsing her videos again as he impatiently kept refreshing her user page, watching her graceful neck and saintly face bob on the screen distractedly, listening to her reassuring and warm voice. He sat hunched over the computer with a coffee, unmasked now that he was alone, save Christine and his reflection. He tried to ignore it, though it faced him directly, mocking him as it twisted into a sneer. Many times, he had tried to look away, but every time, he felt afflicted with panic. If even _he_ couldn't stand to look at it, when how could Christine?

When her video had been uploaded, his eyes had been firmly glued on her, listening with rapture as she spoke. She was standing before her hotel windows, showing the entire street as the sun began to set, watching as the lights of nearby buildings began to switch on. She swung the camera around to show a calendar and a clock, that must have already been in the room, but moved to sit beside each other and she turned it around to face her, and she smiled, her face lighting up. She seemed so confident, even _excited_ as she grinned when she spoke about him. She showed some of her previously recorded footage, and Erik couldn't help but smile when he saw the resulting footage of them both on the yacht. The camera was at a comfortable distance to show her, and the statue appeared to be jumping about on her shoulder. She played at trying to flick it away, and even pretended to try to push it off. She had a grin plastered onto her face the entire time, her eyes focused on her finger. It felt odd, watching her on the screen while knowing he was in the background. It was a weird sensation. He had experienced it plenty of times when the camera had been focused on him, but now that it wasn't, it was a strange, but enjoyable feeling. Erik felt his heart beat as he replayed the video, paying particular attention to the last part of her video, which featured a final message.

The camera was back on her as she sat in a chair at a desk that was opposite her bed. She had placed the camera down on top of something, balancing it somehow, and she looked exhausted. It must have been filmed after doing some editing of her video, and she had decided to add this part on.

"Alright guys, what's up? I'm just going through all of your messages now, and I want to say thank you for being patient and understanding. Your words mean so much to us. To those who have been saying unkind things, things you might regret, then just know that comments like those, don't really affect me in any way. I read them, and they just don't matter. The only way they would matter, would be if you were to come say them to my face. So bring it on. I dare you."

Erik had watched in astonishment as her eyes glinted darkly, her full, pink lips usually in a soft pout, but now they seemed thin and stretched as she smiled. Her whole attitude had changed in a way that Erik had not expected. She seemed so ... _defensive_.

_Money. Fame. She wants to strip you bare of everything and humiliate you. Why wouldn't she? You're a fool for believing her, she is no saint, she is a sinner, searching for a score that would only end up scandalizing you._ His mother's voice slithered in his head, twisting his thoughts about as he replayed the video once more, feeling himself grow hot as he watched her on the yacht again, her sun soaked skin enchanting his thoughts with fantasies of twisted bed sheets. _You're a monster, a freak of nature. You're a pervert for thinking about her that way, you disgusting animal._

Erik paused the video, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his other hand tracing the bumps and trails of his cheek. He placed his ungloved hand over his chest, feeling his heart beat rise as he tried to banish the memory of her sitting his lap, her warm body sinking in towards him as she arched her back.

_No, I won't touch her. She's good, and pure. She is sweet, and honest, and she will not hurt me, so I will not hurt her. I will not extinguish that light_. He swore to himself, tracing his fingers over her lips on his screen. _I will not force her, not matter how much I may want it._

It burned him to think of how much he wanted her. Every touch sent his heart racing, and he hated himself for his desire to consume her body, to delight in picking the fruit that was offered to him. He forced himself to think of Carlotta. He had been tempted by her offerings, her seductive and dulcet tones tricking him, and he had been burned by his anger and her foolishness and curiosity. He would not go so low as to repeat his terrible actions on Christine. She would be scared of him then, and he had no desire to ever frighten her. He didn't think he would be able to stand the sight of a scared, shivering Christine, turning away from him and screaming.

He had crawled onto his bed, lying on his stomach as he struggled to breathe, his David mask facing him as it sat on the bedside table. He fell into a light slumber, the nightmares he usually endured replaced with visions of Christine. She was scared, alone as he tried to hide himself in the shadows. She had been standing in a spotlight, looking for him, scrunching her eyes as she tried to find him in the surrounding darkness. She seemed desperate to find him as she stood on her toes, voicelessly calling for him as she held a ballerina's pose, leaning forward as her arms reached out. He had wanted to reach out for her, his heart throbbing in his chest as he tried to call back to her, but she could not see him, and the darkness was his safety.

Erik had awoken the next morning, feeling more rested than he had in months, and spent his morning performing chores, making calls to certain people, putting things into place, and it wasn't until it was nearly lunchtime when he received a text from Nadir.

_Sorrelli informs me that a young employee of the Winchester is accompanying Christine. Under your influence?_

Erik chuckled, hastily texting back: _Certainly. I want to make sure for myself that she is being taken care of._

_Well, I should have seen that you wouldn't trust my assistant. They seem to be getting on just fine, so either you knew who exactly to send along with them, or Christine really can just get along with anyone. _Nadir texted back.

_I dare you to find anyone who Christine could not get along with._ Erik had texted back._ Did you watch her video?_

_Yes, I caught it before going to bed last night. It was interesting, but nothing new. By the way, We're picking Christine up at 7, so I'll be at yours at 6._

_We? I was under the impression that it would be a date between Christine and me. _Erik texted back irritably, his fingers jabbing at the small keypad. What was Nadir thinking, inviting himself along to their date?

_I was invited too. And not by Christine, by our host._

_And who is the host? Where are we going?_

_You'll have to wait and see. You didn't tell Christine that she was going to spend yesterday on a yacht and in your apartment, so why do you think you can extract Christine's plans from me? _

_Because I suspect that they are not her plans and that they are actually yours. I will see you later, meddler._

Erik swallowed the lump in his throat as he sent his last message while he sat before his piano. He had been sitting there, ready to compose, when Nadir had started texting him. He had been trying to remove any thoughts of Christine as he tried to fit in a few hours of writing his masterpiece from memory. A few years ago, Erik had composed his first opera, his true masterpiece, but in a fit of anger and despair, he had destroyed the only physical copy of his work, instantly regretting it. Ashamed of his depression and his demons, he had given up on ever recreating Don Juan Triumphant, as it had been called, but it wasn't until a few weeks ago when he had seriously given any thought towards recreating it.

Now that Erik had Christine in his life, he could see how destructive and filled with wrath his work looked. He would never be able to play it for her. It would burn her, it would waste her away into nothing if she were to ever hear the tremendous score he had written in drug induced hazes. She was too fragile, too childlike to ever understand his music, or where the pain came from. No, he would never let her eyes fall on this particular piece of work. Erik gave no thought as to what Christine could and could not see, in his mind, he was only protecting her from the monster he knew was deep inside him.

So he hid his work inside a drawer, hoping to forget about the haunting melodies that had been captured on paper, and spent his long remaining hours torn between composing a few pieces that had been inspired by Christine, and hunting down Nadir so he could interrogate him, which Erik was sure was something that neither of them wanted. Erik started getting ready a few hours before Nadir had said he would turn up, and Erik was taking special care to groom himself in a way that he hoped that Christine would find pleasing, putting on some aftershave that Nadir had bought him a few years before. He had never worn it, seeing no need when there was only the two of them who would smell it. He felt oddly pleased with himself, thinking up the little things that would attract her attention, such as the special cufflinks that had been designed only for him in Italy, or the expensive suit that had been tailored to appear as though he had more flesh on his old bones than the reality of his sunken flesh and missing muscles.

Nadir soon turned up, helping himself to a drink as Erik finished preparing himself in his bedroom. He had been debating which gloves to wear, the idea of his skin pressed tight against hers enticed him, but he decided to keep on the black leather gloves.

"You know, I've been getting congratulatory messages all day." Nadir commented.

"So good to hear from strangers." Erik replied sourly through the door, brought out of his deep thinking.

"You aren't pleased?"

"Why should I? You think I care about what everyone else thinks?" Erik asked, wondering if a tie would be suitable. He had no idea where Christine was planning on taking him, but with Nadir having mentioned a host, he guessed it was some sort of party, though the details eluded him. A party meant famous strangers, and every one of them would want to talk to him, but Erik knew that with Christine on his arm, he could do anything.

"I think so. I think the both of you do, actually. It's very hard to not let other people's opinions affect your own, even more so when your life is displayed for the world to see."

"And what am I supposed to do? Christine is ..." Erik sighed, unable to voice his feelings. "She will expect things of me, things that I am unable to do. She must realize that our relationship will be ... unorthodox. I have to make her see that my feelings are true."

"You think she doesn't know?"

"I think she doesn't know how deep they go." Erik said, finally.

"And what do _you _think her feelings are, if I may ask?" Nadir asked, and Erik could hear Nadir rising up off the couch and slowly approaching the door.

"I know what she feels, _Daroga,_ but I have no way of knowing if they are as real and as full as my feelings." Erik growled, growing more annoyed with Nadir's persistent questioning.

"But it's _obvious_!" Nadir sighed, exasperated.

"Maybe to her little _confidante_, but it's not so simple to me." Erik snapped, accusing Nadir.

Erik opened the door suddenly, stepping out into his apartment.

"Listen Erik, remember what I told you yesterday, you over analyze everything. I promise, you'll feel much better once you see her."

Erik groaned, clenching his fists. "This is madness. The moment she leaves my side I'm no longer myself. I'm lost without her around. I'm _terrified_ of how happy she is making me feel."

Nadir grabbed his coat, handing Erik his, and together they walked over to the door. "Why are you so scared? Love is easy. Every day will be like a parade when you have someone wonderful cheering you on like she will."

Erik paused before the door to look at Nadir, smiling. Christine _was_ exceptional. Erik felt proud of the fact that she had initiated another date, and his whole body hummed with a resonating feeling. A feeling of great love for the short, blond creature who for some reason had bestowed Erik the greatest gift he had ever known. A touch made with love. Though maybe that was just too much to ask of Christine just yet.

"Yes, it _will_ be a parade."

On the way over to the hotel, they had debated whose card Christine would use. Erik argued that she would use his, but he suspected Nadir was only joking with him. When they arrived at the hotel, Erik found himself in the same position as before, standing outside of the car in the back alley, where Christine was soon to appear. Erik was nervous, but eager, as he was curious to see what she would wear, and whether her hair would be down or not. Nadir was stood beside him, looking towards the fire exit as well, so Erik felt perfectly at ease to think such bizarre thoughts as they leant against the limousine. That is, until the door opened to reveal Nadir's assistant, Sorrelli, poking her head around the fire exit.

"Just one second." And she disappeared, closing the door behind her.

Erik whipped his head round to look at Nadir. "What's happening? What's going on?"

Nadir chuckled to himself. "Well I certainly don't know."

"Why are you laughing?" Erik asked, standing upright to face Nadir. "Why isn't she coming through the door?"

"_I don't know_. Be patient." Nadir said, looking towards the fire exit.

"I don't like this, What if she's-"

The door opened, and Christine came out, blushing as she looked into her lap, holding the door open as she began to smooth out the most appealing dress Erik had ever seen. It was a light blue, the colour of the sky in the early morning, and the tight bodice followed down into a light fluffy skirt thanks to the lace beneath it. Her hair was down, to his delight, but she had pinned back some hair from the front around to the back of her head to open up her face. He could see what was holding them back. _Pearls_. Erik could feel his heart race and his blood boil as she looked up and smiled towards him, focused solely on his face.

"I'm sorry, I just felt really silly. I bought this dress thinking it looked good on me, and it did in the changing rooms, but now that I'm wearing it, I'm wondering if it's just a bit too _girly_?"

Erik grinned, from ear to ear. She wore it beautifully, but perhaps the outfit wasn't quite fit for the occasion. "Don't worry about it, I can take it back for you in the morning, but I'll need my card." He said, casting Nadir a sly glance as he stuck his hand out for his card.

She stared at him in disbelief. "I paid for it myself, thank you Erik, so I would take it myself if I wanted to, which I don't."

Nadir burst out laughing as Erik's head turned suddenly to face Christine as he pulled his hand back, humiliated.

"I... I..."

Christine grinned. "Erik, relax. It didn't cost much so I just paid for it with the twenty dollars that I had in my purse, it's no big deal."

Erik didn't know how to respond. He hadn't considered that she would pay for it herself instead of using either of their cards. Erik was mystified by her actions, and found himself speechless as Christine turned to look back inside the hotel, watching something. Erik could hear Sorrelli and Meg's voice whispering to each other and to Christine in frustrated, hushed tones, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. She looked back at Erik bashfully and asked in a careful tone,

"I might actually change it, I have my black dress that looks a lot better, and I have the right shoes for it too. So, would you like to come up to my bedroom while I get changed?"

"I... I..."

Nadir laughed again, covering his mouth this time as he struggled to say, "_He'd be delighted_."

Erik whipped his head around to stare at Nadir in horror. "_On my own?!_"

"Well you've been a good boy so I think I can trust you alone with the pretty lady." Nadir replied, before rolling his eyes as he dropped his hand while smirking. "Honestly. Just be quick about it, I know fashionably late is still a thing that people think is cool, but I like to be on time to show respect to our host."

Erik peered round to look at Christine, who was smiling.

"C'mon. Sorrelli's gone to get the lift for us."

Erik grinned back at her and joined her side as she reached out to take his hand. Their fingers interlocked as they held hands, and Erik only had eyes for Christine as she walked them both over to the '_lifts_' as she called them, stroking his thumb as he followed her in a daze, followed closely by Meg and Sorrelli. They got into the elevator, and Erik soon realized that they were expecting to supervise the both of them. Christine still held his hand, blushing as she tried to ignore Meg and Sorelli standing directly in front of them, who were both trying to ignore them back. Erik only stared at Christine, which made her blush. They soon stepped out into the long corridor, and Christine led the way, with the two fools hot on their trail while Erik swiftly kept up with Christine's pace. He was growing more impatient with them by the second, and even more so when Meg revealed Christine's purse and pulled out a keycard for the door.

Christine promptly snatched it out of Meg's hand and unlocked the door, releasing Erik's hand. She opened the door and entered, where Erik swiftly turned his head to glare at both of the girls before they could move an inch.

"_Stay_." He commanded, using a tone of voice he reserved for only the direst of times. He was hypnotizing them with his voice, and they stood still, dumbed by his severe order.

He left them behind, following Christine into the apartment, where he closed the door behind them with a sudden onset of panic, until he heard Christine's voice.

* * *

**Thank you so much for your patience, I know it can't have been easy. Your lovely messages have been amazing, and they just wanted I needed to read after having such a hard few days! I'm so happy to be back, writing this story for you.**

**Please do leave a review, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me!**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Notre Dame de Paris' 'Your Love Will Kill Me'**_

_I feel a wave of passion, move through my heart with such pain._  
_I have no time for reason, so I just let passion reign._  
_I let go so easily, on a night as warm as sin._  
_Midnight swimmer, midnight sea I will not come back again._

_Your love will kill me; your love will kill me._  
_And you will bear my curse as long as my life will be_

_Your love will kill me._  
_Your love will kill me.  
__Your love will kill me.__  
_

* * *

Christine had spent her afternoon enjoying herself with Sorrelli and Meg, laughing at their jokes, talking about inconsequential things such as make-up and the daily lives of other celebrities, which Christine tried to keep up with, but it was hard when Christine didn't buy brand make-up or clothing, and most of the celebrities that Meg and Sorrelli gossiped about were ones that she had never heard about. Meg had to explain who they were, mentioning some basketball player and his girlfriend, or a reality tv star that had just gone into rehab. Christine smiled awkwardly, just nodding along to their stories as she stared down at the white cardboard bag constantly beside her.

Would Erik like it? She wondered, remembering the way it against brushed against her knees when she had tried it on in the changing rooms. It had looked great on her, she had loved the way it showed off her figure while not being too flashy and forward, but now she was thinking that maybe it was too childish for her to wear. She didn't say anything to either Meg or Sorrelli, she didn't want them to think she was just being foolish for wasting their time. But then again, she didn't want to go to a party and look like a child standing next to Erik, who was quite a bit taller than her.

The three of them went back to her hotel, and ordered some room service for their lunch, where Sorrelli demanded that the bill would be taken care of on Nadir's card, casting Meg a triumphant smirk. They ordered some sandwiches, salads, cupcakes and two coffees and one tea, which made both Sorrelli and Meg grin as Christine unsurprisingly took the tea. As they ate, they discussed the various styles that had been in Cambert, and what dresses they would have gotten for themselves. Sorrelli seemed to favor the most professional and modest forms of clothing, whereas Meg like the colourful and interesting clothes. Christine didn't mind either, she just wore whatever she felt like wearing that day. After they had eaten, Christine left to go get ready in her bathroom, relieved to be away from the two women so she could think about Erik in peace. She missed him. It had felt like a lifetime since she had last seen him.

She carefully began shaving her legs, to ensure that she had no stubble, and she began rubbing a sweet honey lotion into her skin, hoping that Erik would be able to smell it. She put on some light perfume, and applied some of her make-up, focusing on her eyeliner while on the other side of the bathroom door, Sorrelli updated Nadir on everything that was happening and Meg was looking through Christine's jewellery, trying to find the right accessories.

"Do you think maybe, that my dress might make Erik a bit nervous?" Christine tried to ask casually, raising her voice so they could both hear her through the door as she picked it off the hanger, standing in her matching blue underwear.

"Nervous?" Meg asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"Do you think it's appropriate?" Christine blurted out as she fingered the lace ruffles. "I mean, it's got a lace ... underneath thing to it, And sure, it looks good on me, but maybe I should have picked something more mature. Besides, my dress at the awards ceremony had lace underneath it as well, now that I think about it."

Christine stepped out of the bathroom after she had dropped the dress around her shoulders and let it fall to just above her knees.

Meg shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't worry about it. As long as Erik likes it, right?"

Sorrelli looked up from her phone to glance at Meg, considering Christine's words. "That's all very well, but they still have an image to keep. This is their first debut as girlfriend and boyfriend, and they need to be taken seriously if people are to believe that this wasn't just a rash decision. Her outfit will determine the future of their relationship."

It didn't seem right to Christine. Surely it was the person underneath the outfit that really mattered. Hadn't it been that way with Erik?

"I get that, but Erik is so shy. I don't think he wants to admit how physically attracted he is to me. It won't help if I'm confusing him by wearing a dress that makes me look young and naive. I need a mature dress, so Erik can clearly see what to expect from the both of us, if that makes any sense?"

Meg looked a bit put off, and tried a different tactic. "But it's a bit late now to find another dress."

Sorrelli smiled, putting down her phone as she rose up of one of the guest chairs. "She has her little black dress, doesn't she? I think we should have a look at it."

Christine frowned. There was something going on between Sorrelli and Meg, and if she didn't know better, she would almost have claimed it as rivalry, but that just seemed ridiculous. Sorrelli seemed protective of Christine, but she was composed, professional and completely focused on her job, while Meg seemed carefree and calm, despite getting worked up over Christine's fashion choices. Meg bitterly glanced at Christine, trying to see if she would say anything, but Christine shrugged in reply.

"It can't hurt to look at it, Meg." Christine said softly, trying to calm the brewing storm that appeared in both Meg and Sorrelli's eyes. "It is a nice dress."

Meg sat back in her seat as she crossed her legs, shooting Sorrelli an annoyed look as she folded her arms and said, "Fine."

"You're just sore that she changed her mind about wearing the dress you chose." Sorrelli laughed, trying to ease the tension after Christine looked at her.

"At least she tried mine on." Meg countered, smiling grumpily to herself. "Go on then, let's take a look at this dress."

Christine pointed to her pink suitcase, which Sorrelli opened up, and searched for the black dress. She pulled it out, smoothing it out against her tall, tanned body, and sighed happily,

"Christine, this is perfect."

Christine could only smile, and even Meg had to begrudgingly agree. It was a lovely dress. It was a tight fitting, strapless satin dress, which would show off her shoulders and her neck while still being modest. It zipped up the side, and when Christine wore that dress, she liked to pretend that she was walking down a catwalk when she had her killer heels on that matched. It had been a little fantasy that she indulged in whenever she was getting all dressed up for a special event, which tonight certainly was.

"So you're going to wear it?" Meg asked, more curious.

"I think that might just give Mr. Destler a heart attack if she did." Sorrelli said, staring at the dress with jealousy.

"I don't know. I want to impress him, but I did buy _this_ dress with the intention of wearing it tonight." Christine said, trying to smooth out her dress as she went to stand beside Sorrelli. "What do you think, Meg?"

Sorrelli's phone bleeped suddenly, and she brought the device to her face so quickly that Christine wasn't sure if her hand hadn't always been there. Christine took the dress from Sorrelli, and both She and Meg watched as Sorrelli groaned to herself.

She peered up at the both of them. "Well, maybe you should ask what Erik thinks."

Christine panicked. "He's here?"

"Mr Kahn says they'll be downstairs in a minute." Sorrelli said, gathering her things quickly. "He doesn't like to be late to anything, so I suggest we move this conversation along."

Meg stood up, looking around her as she reached for the small travel bag that contained Christine's jewellery. "Wait, she's not ready. We still need to finish her hair, get some jewellery together and we need to find her shoes and get her purse as well..."

"Right, I'll pop down and let them know she'll be a few minutes." Sorrelli confirmed, squeezing Christine's hand as she left, skipping out on her high heels as Christine stood silently.

She had been thinking of Erik, waiting for her, and she had been distracted by that thought until Meg snapped her out of her daydream.

"We should go after her, We can decide in the elevator about jewellery. You put your shoes on and I'll grab everything."

"But what about my dress?" Christine asked, grabbing a fistful of the blue dress she wore.

"Leave it, there's no time. C'mon, you don't want to keep them all waiting, do you?" Meg asked, grabbing Christine's things together as Christine stood watching her.

"Meg..." She began carefully as she smiled. "Thanks for keeping me company today. It's been fun, hanging out with the both of you. You've both been really helpful, I don't know how I would have gotten on today with your help."

Meg adjusted her grip of the various items in her arms, and nodded. "Don't worry about it. I've had fun too. That Sorrelli is a bit of a stiff, isn't she?"

Christine laughed as she put on her high heels, following Meg out into the corridor as she shut the door behind her, after making sure Meg had her card.

"You two are like apples and oranges, aren't you?" Christine asked as she took her jewellery bag from Meg and began to pick through it as they waited by the elevator.

"She's so _stuffy_ and unrelenting. I dunno, I guess I just like my life outside of work." Meg said, shrugging. "We're not like you, who can just get on with _everyone_."

Christine bit her lip, recalling her phone call to Carlotta. "Not everyone. There's at least one person who doesn't like me." She said sourly, picking out a small piece of cardboard that had several pearl drop twists for her hair.

Meg looked up, smirking. "Oh yeah, whose that?"

"Carlotta Giudicelli." Christine admitted, looking up bashfully.

Meg turned, stunned. "What?"

"It was one of the messages you gave me. It turned out to be Carlotta." Christine simplified as the lift opened and they stepped inside. "She was trying to warn me about something. She made it sound as though it had something to do with Erik, but I have no idea what she was on about."

"_Carlotta_? Do you two know each other?" Meg asked, pulling back some of Christine's hair to open up her face, and began pinning it in place as Christine handed her the pearl twists one at a time.

"No. I feel bad, I kind of was really mean to her, I mean, she was a big idol of mine for a long time, back when I still sang, but she was so tricky and ... well, _sly_." Christine said, frowning as she tried to stand still. "It was horrible, finding out your idol is just as human as the rest of us."

"You know people think that they slept together." Meg said, stepping back from Christine.

Christine turned around to face Meg, her mouth open as she gaped at the blond girl. "I knew that they had been romantically linked, but I didn't read that!"

"Well, it's just a rumour. Apparently he left with her one night, and the next thing that everyone knew, Carlotta had flown off to Aspen -_that's in Colorado, it's a ski resort_- and her manager said that she was recuperating."

"_Recuperating_?" Christine asked, feeling edgy as she remembered Carlotta's words. She had said that Erik had a terrible temper, but was she just trying to mess with her?

Meg caught Christine's panicked tone and reassuringly held onto her arm, giving it a friendly squeeze. "Ignore it. People say horrible things when they don't know the truth. These celebrities are just bored, and try to entertain themselves with stupid gossip."

"But why would she be recuperating?" Christine asked as Meg began to look for earrings and bracelets in Christine's jewellery bag.

The doors opened suddenly, and Meg groaned, giving up on finding anything to match Christine's dress. They walked out, to see Sorrelli talking to the hotel manager in an unimpressed tone, close to the fire exit. She turned, ignoring the manager as she heard the both of them approach her.

"Good, glad to see that it didn't ... I thought you were wearing the black dress?"

"I didn't want to keep Erik waiting." Christine said, trying not to look at Meg.

"It's good to let him wait." Sorrelli said, letting out a deep breath, looking at Meg as she said, "Meg, would you take her back upstairs and get her into the other dress, please? I'll let Mr Kahn know you'll be a few more minutes."

Sorrelli walked over to the fire exit, and Christine followed, ignoring her order.

"Christine, maybe she's right, let's just go back upstairs..." Meg gave in, getting more antsy the closer Christine got to the fire exit.

"I just want to say hi to Erik. I want to see what he thinks of the dress."

Sorrelli turned around, after having spoken to either Nadir or Erik, and found Christine close on her heels, smiling.

"Excuse me..." Christine said, stepping around Sorrelli.

"Christine..." Sorrelli began, but Christine had already opened the door and stepped out, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she hoped that Erik would be standing outside of the car, waiting for her, like he had done the day before.

Christine looked up shyly, but she couldn't keep herself from grinning as her eyes fell on both Erik and Nadir's shadowy presence. Once her eyes landed on Erik's mask, she took a deep breath. She looked down at her dress, and compulsively began to smooth it out, wondering if Erik approved of it. She looked up at him, trying not melt as his mask was focused solely on her dress and the cutting figure it supplied. She felt oddly at peace with Erik checking out her body. It was something he was allowed to do, appreciate his new girlfriend. Besides, it let her know what he was thinking about without having a face to rely on.

Christine ignored Meg and Sorrelli wittering away to the left of her, inside the hotel. Sorrelli was arguing that Christine should change into the black dress, while Meg was arguing that it was too late now. Christine had no idea why the two of them seemed so argumentative towards each other, but she was beginning to suspect that it actually had nothing to do with her.

Christine listened with pleasure as Erik sighed happily to himself as he took the sight of her in, and she had tried to explain why there had been a delay, blaming it on the dress. He brushed off the delay, but he agreed that the dress wasn't quite suitable for the evening, though Christine didn't know if that meant that Nadir had told him of her plans if he knew it wasn't suitable. Erik was hinting at something to Nadir as he offered to take her dress and return it in the morning, though at what she couldn't guess. She had shortly replied that she had paid for it herself, grinning as Nadir burst out laughing.

She looked up, to glance at Sorrelli, who had now directed her attention to Christine, motioning for her to step back inside so she could go change. Christine had a sudden flash of inspiration and asked Erik if he could like to join them in her room while she got changed. Erik had been speechless, and if it hadn't been for Nadir subtly accepting Erik's invitation for him, Christine doubted Erik would have even stepped one foot closer to her.

He had followed in a daze, his mask pointed directly at her as she led the way, with Meg and Sorrelli both closely following them. Their hands interlocked, her white fingers being squeezed by Erik's black leather gloved hand. She felt sad as she realized that she hadn't even wondered what Erik would be wearing, and what she hoped he would not be wearing, his gloves. Standing in the elevator, she had felt suddenly shy in front of Meg and Sorrelli, but it gave her the opportunity to admire Erik's strong appearance. She could smell some deep, spicy aftershave wafting from his body, and his suit looked very impressive. It looked tight against him and she blushed again. He hadn't yet greeted her properly, and as they held hands now, he still didn't speak a word to her.

It wasn't until she had firmly pulled him out of the lift down to her room, where she began to grow excited, hardly able to contain her glee as she quickly snatched the room keycard from Meg's hands. She released Erik's hand, trying to hide her face as she continued blushing, entering her room as she quickly looked around to see if there was anything she needed to hide from Erik's view. She grabbed some clothes that had been laying about, stuffing them into her suitcase as she snapped upright at the sound of Erik shutting the door.

"Aren't they coming in?" Christine asked, flustered as Erik stood facing the door.

Erik took a few deep breaths, his hands on either side of the door as he held himself up.

"Um, Erik, is everything okay? You haven't even said hello, like, I know we talked downstairs, but now you're being really quiet and I'm wondering-"

Erik turned around, his hands clenching and unclenching as he dropped his gaze down to her body. He spoke with such tenderness, that suddenly Carlotta's words seemed stupid and unfounded.

"Thank you for inviting me up."

"Er, That's okay." Christine replied, feeling quite ready to swoon from his voice, but instead she only smiled at him.

"May I hug you, Christine?" Erik asked, looking up at her, finally.

"Of course!" Christine said, striding over with her arms open as she slipped her hands under his arms, around his body and pressed herself into his chest, pulling him down against her.

She had placed her hands on his shoulder blades, and lifted herself up as she stood on her toes to rest her head against his chest, her cheek pressing hard against his silk shirt as Erik struggled to keep himself upright against her forceful embrace. He stumbled for a moment, then got his footing as he stood in alarm, his arms still out from having to use them to balance himself. Christine closed her eyes as Erik's hands fell in around her waist, and he supported the both of them.

"I missed you all day. I couldn't stop thinking about you." She sighed, squeezing Erik's rib cage as she hugged him tighter.

"I missed you too. I saw your video last night, I kept replaying it." Erik said merrily, burying his mask against the top of her head.

She looked up cheerfully, a huge smile on her face as she asked, "You did?! What did you think? Did you like the shot I took on the yacht?"

Erik laughed, running one hand over her hair. "I loved it. You looked beautiful."

Christine smiled, enjoying the way he doted over her. "I wish you could have been in it." She conceded quietly. "It would be nice if I had a video, even a photo of us together."

Erik braced himself. "Is that what you wish, Christine? A photo of the both of us?" He asked unflinchingly.

"Well it's better than a pillow." Christine said, grinning to herself as she looked down into her chest.

"What?" Erik asked, distracted from his line of thought.

"Nothing!"

"No, tell me." Erik teased, sensing her embarrassment. He grabbed her chin and tilted it up so she would look at him.

She looked at him, directly into the mask's eyes and said sheepishly, "You're a pillow."

"No, Christine, you're going to have to explain everything." Erik said, absent-mindedly stroking her hip with his thumb.

She pulled herself away from him, taking his hands from around her waist and held them before her. "Ever since the night we met, I kind of just pretended a pillow was you. I used to do it back home when my father died. I was really depressed, and I missed him, so I'd lie on my bed and hug this pillow and pretend it was him."

Erik watched her carefully, squeezing her hands. Christine continued, as she led him towards her bed. He followed her closely from behind until she released his hands to lean over on the bed to pick up the pillow. She clambered back off of the bed and turned to face him, holding it up.

"You're a pillow." She said, before pressing it to her body, crossing her arms over the pillow to hold it tight against her.

"Christine..." Erik moaned, and stepped forward, framing her face with his hands as he held her head, standing only inches away from her.

Christine's eyes flickered up to meet his, smiling as her arms brushed against his stomach. She could hear his harsh breathing beneath his mask and she dropped her hands, still holding onto the pillow as it dangled in between their knees. His hands felt nice against her hair, and she laughed, made bold by his passionate actions.

"Can you see why I'd like the picture now?" She joked.

Erik laughed, and they laughed together as she dropped the pillow. "Is that what you would like, Christine? A photo of the two of us?"

"Yes. I just want to have it on my phone, so I can look at it."

Erik removed his hands from around her face and stepped back. "Where is your phone? We shall do it now."

Christine smiled as she bent over to grab the pillow and tossed it onto the bed. "Meg has it. In fact, she has all of my stuff. Hey, If you want, you can pick which jewellery I should wear, just stick to earrings or necklaces while I go change, okay?"

Erik stared towards the door, and looked back at her. "As you wish."

"Alright." Christine said, picking up the black dress she had left on the bed. She felt playful as she sidled around the bed, past Erik and over to the bathroom while Erik watched her. "I think you'll agree that this dress is much better. Maybe you'll also agree that I have my own clothes and I know how to dress myself, unlike Sorrelli and Meg who can't stop arguing about it."

"Yes, I will concede to that." Erik said, noticing the dress.

She entered the bathroom, and poked her head around the door. "I hope at least _you_ can pick something that will go with this dress."

Erik nodded, stepping lightly after her as he replied, "I'm sure I can find something."

She smiled once more. "I trust you."

She shut the door, holding up the black dress to look at it as she listened to Erik's footsteps as he stood on the other side of the door.

"I trust you too." Erik answered, and Christine could sense there was a hidden meaning behind his words that she felt meant something more to him than to her. "I shall get your things now."

Erik left, and Christine listened to his footsteps as she began to remove her dress, thinking about Erik and his odd little quirks. He had called himself by his first name the other day, in third person, and considering Carlotta's word, she wondered if his eccentricities did lead to a terrible temper.

* * *

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	19. Chapter 19

**_The Hunchback Of Notre Dame's 'Heaven's Light / Hellfire'_**

_So many times out here  
I've watched a happy pair  
Of lovers walking in the night  
They had a kind of glow around them  
It almost looked like heaven's light_

_I knew I'd never know_  
_That warm and loving glow_  
_Though I might wish with all my might_  
_No face as hideous as my face_  
_Was ever meant for heaven's light_

_But suddenly an angel has smiled at me_  
_And kissed my cheek without a trace of fright_

_I dare to dream that she_  
_Might even care for me_  
_And as I ring these bells tonight_  
_My cold dark tower seems so bright_  
_I swear it must be heaven's light_

* * *

Erik had seen many wondrous sights, both pleasant and disturbing, but of all the events he had witnessed in his lifetime, he was not prepared for the sights and sounds that he was about to encounter. It took a lot of restraint to stop himself from reaching out to take Christine into his arms as she sashayed around him to enter the bathroom. His attention had been entirely on her back, watching the way her dress shifted against her as she moved and he had almost missed what Christine had said. From the moment he had stepped into her room, his mind had been a whirlwind of terrifying emotions. He wanted so badly to show Christine that he could restrain himself from thinking terrible thoughts when alone with her in her room, but he was afraid to look at her. What if she had planned some other reason for wanting him there? He had debated whether or not leaving Miss Giry and Miss Sorrelli outside had been a good idea, but Christine's bewildered voice awoke him from his thoughts, ringing in his ears. Erik had finally turned around, determined not to let his feelings get the better of him, but it seemed it was not meant to be, as his eyes had darted to her blue dress and the way it had fallen around her. His eyes flitted up to her face, and he winced at the sight of her concerned expression. He composed himself mentally, and he watched as Christine's frown melted away into a smile. Erik knew it was wrong, but he wanted to be comforted by her again. He hadn't meant to be so rude to her the day before, and he needed her forgiveness. He would always need her forgiveness, but would she always give it? Now they were alone, would Christine mention his conduct towards her? It seemed to have slipped her mind, as she readily agreed to hug him, once he asked. Erik had thought that he would have had to beg her, but she flew to him cheerfully, shocking him beyond words as she held onto him tightly, regardless of whether or not he chose to hold her back. Erik was sweating profusely beneath the mask, dropping his hands around her waist to support them both as she stood on her toes to hug him. She pressed herself harder against him, as though convinced that her happiness came just from squeezing him half to death between her tiny arms and her chest. It was a preposterous thought, her happiness could not come from touching him, but from the way she closed her eyes as he stared down at her, he could believe it for a moment.

Christine had hugged him even tighter, as though she _could_ squeeze him to death, and she admitted that she had missed him. He confessed to it as well, but he was surprised at Christine's declaration. It made him suspicious that she would give him any thought, she had so many things in her life to preoccupy her time with, why would Christine think of him for even a _second_, if not to consider his mask? She sounded joyful, however, and he knew that she had not been thinking of it. He pressed the mask's face to her hair, and told her that he had seen her video, hoping to please her, and Christine's delight was contagious, infecting him as well as she lifted her head from his chest to look up at him, her eyes fixed on the mask as she asked him what he had thought of it. He had smiled, enjoying the way she had sounded so delighted and surprised. But her expression changed, as she revealed her desire to have evidence of their time together. Erik could not have predicted this change of mood, he would never have thought that Christine would ask for such a thing. She knew he did not like cameras, and still she wanted to make him suffer the ordeal of having to tell her that he could not complete her request. But then she had mentioned something about a pillow, and Erik had blinked, drawn out of his thoughts as she spoke to herself.

Christine's eyes had widened, shocked as he insisted that she speak more of this pillow, embarrassed by something as she tried to backtrack, and Erik found himself drawn into her soft voice. She had looked up at him, and called him a pillow. Erik had stared at her blankly. Was it a term that he was not familiar with, or was this just another of Christine's little idiosyncrasies? She told him of how when her father had died, she had kept a pillow, pretending it was her father, taking some comfort from it, and how from the first night that she had met him, she had done the same thing with one of the hotel pillows, to think of _him_. Imagine that. Christine had guided him over to the bed, climbing onto it to grab one of her pillows. She climbed off, hugging the pillow firmly to her body, crossing her arms over it, her hands holding the corners of the pillows to her shoulders, her lips just brushing against the tip of the pillow as she lowered her head.

Erik's heart must have gone into overdrive, the blood was rushing to his head, and he had no control over himself as he stepped forward to claim her face, holding it gently, his palms pressed to her cheeks as he stared down at her through blurry eyes. It was as though a thousand people were shouting in his head, and he couldn't hear clearly. He had closed his eyes, repeating her words in his head. She had _missed_ him, from the first night they had met, and Erik was so grateful that he had not frightened her away. He could hardly breathe, and he opened his eyes to see Christine's happy, beaming face turn up towards him. She had laughed, and Erik's heart had leapt at the pleasant sound. He would give her a photo of the two of them, he would give her a _hundred_ photos if it would make her happy. He would do anything to make her happy, and it was such a simple request, after all. A photo of him, to have on her phone, so that only she could look at it. Why his sweet Christine would want a photo of his mask, he did not understand, but it clearly meant a lot to her. It made him ecstatic to think that when she was not around him, she still thought of him. It must have been good thoughts, for her to wish for a photo of him.

He had asked her where her phone was, and she had answered that Meg was holding onto her things outside her room. He was about to run out of the room and snatch it from the girl's hands, but Christine had gone on to say that she would like him to pick out her jewellery. Erik had hidden his glee when she had said that, to pick out what she would wear, even to the smallest detail, made him very excited. Erik could remember watching his mother picking out jewellery as he peeked through the crack in her bedroom door. She would always smile when looking at her trinkets, turning them about in the light as she sat before her dressing table. Madeleine had always been a vain woman, but it was rightly so. She had been very bewitching, and Erik had loved to admire her from a distance. She loved to possess handsome things, her clothes and her possessions always complimented her fine tastes, but it made her very vicious. She had caught him once, as he was looking through her jewellery box. He had thought that she was still outside, hanging out the laundry to dry, and he had snuck into her room like a thief in the night. He had wished it _was_ nighttime. In the darkness, he was safe, he could move without being seen, but he had learned his lesson from when he had tried to hold her hand when she was asleep. He only wanted to look at her treasures for himself. He wanted to see what it was that made her smile. He wanted that talent, and he would have given up any number of the skills he possessed in order to see his mother smile towards him. If he could only see what it was in the diamonds and gold that brought out the wonderful curve to her lips. Madeleine had found him and thrown him from the room, crying hysterically as she screamed at him, and she had locked herself in her room. Erik had cried, begging her to come out, scratching at the door like a cat, and it wasn't until he had returned to his room that she had emerged. Even now, Erik could still hear her angry shrieking as she accused him of trying to break her things. She had cried that he didn't want her to have anything to herself, anything beautiful. After all these years, it still hurt him to think that his own mother thought that he did not want her to have nice things.

Christine had distracted him from his thoughts, his heart racing as he thought of looking at Christine's trinkets. She didn't even know how much he was looking forward to it, and he was impatient to start picking out something for her to wear. To touch her things, with her permission, it was _exhilarating_. She meandered around the bed, commenting idly on the conduct of both Miss Sorrelli and Miss Giry, and she had joked that she was hoping that _Erik_ at least knew what would look good on her, and Erik had happily agreed, distracted by the thought of admiring Christine's most precious things, though any outfit would have looked good on her in his opinion. She had closed the bathroom door, and said three little words._ I trust you_. Never had three little words affected him so. Erik had stood on the other side of the door, pressing his fingertips to the smooth surface, and summoned the courage to repeat those words back to her. He meant them, too. He trusted her never to hurt him, to never betray him. It would be easy, after all. With a single word she could bend him to her will, she had the power, but for some reason, she chose not to use it.

Erik could hear her remove her dress, and before any dark thoughts could enter his head, he turned away to open the bedroom door, stepping out into the hallway to observe the two women who were staring dumbly at the floor. He was glad he had enraptured them with his voice, he would not have wanted them to see what had occurred inside Christine's bedroom. He watched them both for a second, their glazed eyes and their doped expressions telling him that they were both sufficiently under his control. He smiled to himself, stepping closer to the young Giry, and rifled through the bags in her arms, looking for Christine's purse and her jewellery collection. One or two bags threatened to slip from the girl's sloppy grip, as he passed them over to Sorrelli, placing them in her hands as she stared at them mildly. He found Christine's jewellery, unzipping the travel bag to look inside. His hands trembled, his breath catching in his throat as he snatched the bag, and Christine's purse, from between the girl's slack fingers. The girl looked up sleepily, blinking as Erik ignored her. He was too busy staring at Christine's purse, wondering if he was allowed to open it to retrieve her phone. It must have been in her purse, he could not find it elsewhere. He wanted to look inside, to see what Christine kept inside it, but he felt the same guilt from looking at her purse as he did from watching his mother.

"... Mr... Destler?" Meg slurred drowsily, looking up slowly.

"_Be quiet_. _Stay here_." Erik enforced, turning around to enter Christine's room as he cradled her things in his arms. He didn't need to look at the girl to know that she was already under his spell again. Both she and Miss Sorrelli would not awaken unless disturbed. He would have to wake them both up before Christine saw them, but it was a risk he was willing to take for their privacy.

He shut the door behind him, kicking it shut with his foot, and carried her things over to her bed, staring down at them in wonder, before he gently laid them down on the white sheets. He stared at them for what felt like hours, very aware of his breathing. Now that he had the chance to touch Christine's most prized possessions, he wasn't sure if he could do it. He wanted to, how he _wanted_ to, but he was afraid that Christine would find him and find some offense. She had given her permission for him to touch her stuff, but it had only been to pick something out for her, not to gasp and stare at her things. He looked behind him, toward the bathroom door, where he could hear Christine shuffling about. He didn't know how long he had left, but he would have to move quickly. He looked back down at the bed, and saw the pillow she had held between them, the one she had designated to be him. Erik could feel his fingers twitch, and there was a high pitched ringing in the back of his head. It faded, slowly, and he was able to look at the pillow. He stood before the edge of the bed, smoothing out the sheets with his gloved hand, before reaching to take it, and he pulled it close to his body. It was still warm. He held it to his chest as he closed his eyes, bowing his head so that the mask's lips brushed against the white covering. Christine thought of him during the night, when she was alone, in her bed. Just what thoughts exactly that ran through her head about Erik, he couldn't imagine, and it made him wonder if she would ever tell him. He pressed his lips to the inside of his mask and closed his eyes as the mask's lips pressed a little harder against the pillow. His saintly Christine, would there ever be an end to the surprises she gave him?

He put the pillow back, tugging it into the same position as she had left it, and turned to look at her travel bag. It was open, and he could see the various shiny beads and jewels. He knelt down before the bed, balancing himself on the balls of his feet, and he opened the bag, reaching in as though there were gold coins inside. He slowly pulled out each necklace and bracelet, and he had admired them all, noting with surprise that they were not as shiny as he had believed. They were worn and old, cheap little things that Erik couldn't believe that Christine would wear. There was a bracelet comprised of large wooden beads, with no other decoration, and there was a necklace with a seashell attached. He had not anticipated Christine's treasures to be so plain and ordinary. There were a few necklaces that he could appreciate, but they were not the jewels that she should have been wearing. Not until he came across a pair of crystal earrings. They were sterling silver, with a single hanging teardrop crystal each, and Erik held them up to his mask so he could look at them. They were perfect.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?"

Erik nearly dropped the earring as he span around to see Christine towering over him. His heart was beating so fast, she had somehow snuck up on him, and he hadn't even heard her open the door. She was smiling as she smoothed out her dress, and his eyes travelled up her body, the tight, black dress she wore all very appealing, until he saw what should have been a neckline. Her shoulders were bare, and her hair was splayed out around them, the ringlets jumping about as she looked from her dress to his mask. Erik was speechless, his eyelids fluttering as his hands twitching in his lap as he knelt before a golden haired goddess. Christine smiled, placing her hands on her hips.

"I knew you'd like it." She said triumphantly.

Erik couldn't say anything, he couldn't even nod, but Christine only grinned, and bent over to take the earrings from him, her face perilously close to his.

"There were my mother's. My father gave them to her when they got engaged." Christine said, staring at them before placing them in each ear. "He loved her so much, it really hurt him when she died. She meant the world to him, but at least he got to say his goodbyes."

Erik had watched with fascination as her hands lifted to each ear, brushing aside the odd ringlet, placing each earring in. The crystals dangled around her face, and Erik watched as they bounced along with her hair with each little turn of her head. They were elegant, and with the pearls that were holding back the hair that would have framed her face, it only made her more enchanting. He felt a kinship with her father, he too loved a woman that meant the world to him. He felt pity for the man, he had lost the one thing in the world worth holding onto, someone to love who would love him in return. Erik felt jealously as well though, and buried his feelings. Erik hadn't realized until that moment, that they were alone for the first time since their announcement of their new relationship, and he stood up, holding her shoulders as she stared up at him.

"_Christine_..." He whispered in a deep tone, feeling his chest rumble as he spoke her angelic name. He wanted to tell her how happy he was to be with her.

Christine stared up at him wide eyed as her mouth hung open, holding her hands to her chest as she cried, "Oh Erik, that _voice_... It makes me want to _cry_."

Erik stared at her in horror. "Why?"

"No, I mean, there's this... I heard somewhere, that every person has this one note that they hear and it just resonates so deeply in them that it can bring them to tears. Some people go their whole lives never hearing it. And that voice, it was so powerful, yet so beautiful, I've never heard anything like it in my life."

Erik stared at her, as he lifted his hand to trace her hairline. "I can do many things with my voice, Christine, I can show you all sorts of tricks to amuse you, but I would never want to make you cry."

Christine sniffed, smiling. "It's okay to cry, especially over something beautiful, and your voice is that."

Erik closed his eyes. Christine was constantly praising him, she gave each kind word out like they were candy, and Erik was all too happy to rave about her as well. She should have been told every second how radiant she was.

"_You_ look beautiful." He said honestly, opening his eyes to look at her. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

Christine blushed, pursing her lips as she smiled. "You don't look _too_ bad yourself." She said, reaching out to straighten his lapels.

Erik held his breath as her fingers brushed against his jacket as she began to smooth out any creases she saw. Her eyes lifted up to his eyes briefly, before they flickered to the mask's lips. She had only stared for a second, but it had felt as though the world had slowed down to Erik. She had been sucking on her lips as she stared, but stopped once she realized what she was doing and returned her attention to his suit. Erik wondered what had been going through her head as she let out a tired breath. Why had she been looking at the mask's lips with a strange expression on her face that he couldn't place? She had looked as though she wanted to ask him something, or as though she was about to do something, but Erik couldn't think what. It surely couldn't have been to...

Erik felt his deformed cheeks blush as her fingers smoothed out his jacket, bringing him out of his thoughts with a worried smile as her hands came down his arms to rest at his wrists, where her fingertips skimming along the back of the gloves.

"This is my lucky dress," She said, pulling her hands away to brush her hands down her dress. "Whenever I wear it, something good _always_ happens."

"Then l hope you never take it off." He said seriously, watching her hands closely.

Christine looked up at him, confused, but didn't ask him anything about what he had said.

"I haven't gotten to wear a fancy outfit on a date before, it's nice."

Erik felt his stomach flip as he thought about Christine's previous boyfriends. She had never mentioned them in any detail until now, though he was well aware that they existed. How could they not? Erik refused to believe that Christine had never caught the attentions of another man. He wondered about how they had dated Christine. Had they never taken her anywhere where she she could dress as beautifully as this? Was she happy that she got to dress up and wear fine things? Did she feel beautiful? _Erik _would make her feel beautiful. Erik would show her just how beautiful she was without the jewellery and the fine clothes. He could not stop thinking about the previous men in her life though. Did she ever have strong feelings for any of them? Was there even a hint of love for another man. Had she ever seen a future with any of them? Did she see some kind of future with him?

"Christine. Your previous boyfriends..."

Christine looked up, puzzled as she rested her hands against his lapels.

"Did you ever think that they would go anywhere, if you have been with them longer?" He asked solemnly.

Christine hummed, thinking. "Not really. I wouldn't have called most of them boyfriends. None of them ever got past the first date, apart from one guy..."

There was a knock at the door, and Christine looked up suddenly, her blonde curls swinging along with her earrings as Nadir's voice rang out, "C'mon you two, we're running late as it is!"

"Christine, who was it?" Erik asked, tremors running down his body as he held onto her shoulders.

Christine's eyes darted to his mask. "Just a second, Nadir!"

"Christine, who _was_ it?" He cried, watching as her hands rose up to settle on top of his. He was suddenly very jealous of all the boys she had ever held hands with, before she had ever learned his name.

"Erik, it's okay. It's all in the past. It wasn't even a serious relationship. I thought _once_ that it would go somewhere, but it wasn't meant to be. It doesn't matter _who_ I've dated, all that matters is who I'm dating _now_, and that's _you_."

Christine squeezed his fingers. "Has there... been anyone else for you?"

Erik shook his head. "No. There's been no-one but you."

Christine frowned, looking away from him as she stared towards her dressing table, giving a frustrated sigh. Was she upset? Was she not happy that she was the only woman in his life that he had ever courted? He followed her gaze over to the table, where he saw the yellow and pink roses he had sent to her that morning.

"Do they please you?" He asked, turning back around to look at her. Flowers made women smile, didn't they? So why was Christine not smiling at them when she looked at them? Should he have gotten her red roses?

"They're beautiful." She said slowly.

Erik carefully cupped her cheek with his hand. "Are they not right? Would you have preferred a different colour, a different flower?"

She looked up at him in surprise. "Oh, it's not that. They're gorgeous. I just... I'm not a big fan of cut flowers. They're so much more beautiful when-"

Nadir knocked again, more forcefully this time, surprising the both of them.

"Erik, do _not_ make me break this door down." He argued, sounding far more angry than he had before. Erik held back a moan. Could Nadir not just give him a few more minutes?

"We're coming!" Christine said, reaching down to pick up her purse. "We better go. Sorrelli says that Nadir doesn't like to be late for _anything_."

"I'd rather stay in here." He said bravely, watching her reaction as she stood up. He had been admiring the shape of her back as her dress hugged her possessively, his eyes travelling over her hips and down her legs, but his comment had been entirely innocent. He would have liked to have spent the rest of the evening in her room, just the two of them, instead of having to share her attention with lazy louts who did not deserve her time. It was becoming obvious now that it was a party, but he wasn't about to spoil Christine's surprise for him. It was a generous thought of Christine's, to initiate another date with him, and he did not want her to be upset if she found that he had guessed her surprise. He would brave the staring and the constant wittering from idiots for her if she continued to stay by his side. To think, he would get to hold Christine, before everyone, and no-one could tell him to stop. He could hold her hand, and touch her hair, and talk with her, and no-one could tell him to leave. She would not ignore him either, he hoped. Christine would be there with a smile on her face, he imagined, and she would look as though she belonged there.

Christine looked at him, grinning as she stared at him in disbelief, making him jump. "_Erik_!"

Erik's face dropped, she hadn't been able to hear his thoughts, had she? She had burst out into laughter, linking her arm around his. "Let's _go_, before we give Nadir the wrong idea!"

Erik smiled goofishly, at the word '_we_'. It was a wonderful word, just two little letters that made him feel normal. Christine looked so beautiful, simply divine as they walked arm in arm over to the door, as Christine carried on from her previous conversation. Erik had never felt so human in all of his life, and he was proud to have a woman such as Christine consider his wretched feelings, when they stopped before the roses. He watched Christine stroke the petals, smiling.

"Like I was saying, I prefer flowers when they're growing in a garden. It seems a shame to cut them, they can only live so long after they've been cut, but in a garden, they're always fresh and beautiful. We used to live in a beautiful house in Sweden with an amazing garden. My father got my mother this cottage when they got married. I still have photos, it was absolutely stunning, _really_ romantic. It had ivy growing all around the front door, hanging over it like a curtain, hiding it from view. My father used to say that he'd hold back the ivy for my mother when she was pregnant with me, sometimes pinning it back if he had to carry shopping into the house for her. He used to joke that new visitors often had trouble when visiting the house for the first time. He'd talk about how they often wondered where the door was, and spend ages just trying to find it. Then, when they'd gone around to look around the back, my mother and father would creep through the ivy, and stand in front of it, waiting for them to return. Their faces of shock and confusion always delighted my mother. She loved that house, the garden was filled to the brim with wildflowers, bluebells, and all sorts of trees. And she was such a lively spirit. My father used to say that she would have lived in the woods if he had let her, but the garden was enough for her. She used to love exploring the forests. I get that from her, I guess. It was how she died. She was crossing a stream. She slipped and hit her head. She was fine for a few days, but she slipped away in her sleep. My father couldn't live in the house after she passed, it was too painful, and he had me to raise, so he took me to England. The photos I saved of my mother, and the house, they don't do them justice. They're black and white, and kind of blurry, but there's one that I love the most. It's a photo of my mother holding me in her lap as she's sitting underneath these two trees. She was reaching out to something behind the camera, my father probably. She looked so happy. I don't remember it, I was only around three at the time, but I remember the blue skies and the green fields." She recounted sadly, her lips twisting into a pained expression that Erik wished he could have removed. She looked wistful, her narrowed eyes tracing the yellow and pink petals.

"I would love to see those photos." Erik nodded slowly, enchanted by her tale. It sounded idyllic, and Erik could easily imagine the house she spoke of. Erik had no photos of his mother, and she had kept the photos of his father hidden from him. Erik had never been able to find them, despite the many hours of looking. "I would very much like to know what your parents looked like."

Christine looked up, smiling. "I'd be happy to share them with you."

She took his arm again, and they walked over to the door, smiling. "You know, I took a photo of those roses before, and I posted them online, I hope you don't mind."

"No, Christine. I don't mind." He said, happy at least that the roses had brought some pleasure to her, despite it being in a way that he had not expected.

Christine placed her hand on the doorknob. "I'm glad, it's already gotten nearly 3,000 views, and my followers are going mad. I've never seen them so riled up!" She opened the door, and Nadir's disgruntled face startled her. "Though probably not as mad as _that_!" She added, looking up at Erik cheekily.

Erik laughed, unashamed as Nadir's crinkled face turned up at him. "We're _late_ now. I hope you're happy with yourself, Erik."

"It was my fault." Christine interrupted. "I was telling Erik about my old home back in Sweden. I'm sorry."

Christine looked around the long corridor as Erik's arm slipped tighter around her waist. It was a pleasant experience, and he was a little lost in the moment, until Christine started to wave to someone down towards the elevators. Erik looked up to see Miss Giry and Miss Sorrelli waiting for them. He was relieved to see they were alert, but they were both staring at him as they waved back to Christine, talking to each other. He didn't want to know what they were thinking, he knew they would be confused as to what he had done to the both of them, but judging from the looks on their faces, they were more concerned as to what had gone on in Christine's room. He was glad, he didn't want anyone to know. He was selfish, he wanted Christine's attention entirely upon him, and to hear her stories, to kneel before her had been eye-opening. They would not have appreciated the words she would have spoken if they had been present, not the way he had.

"I found them both out here when I arrived. I don't suppose I can blame that on _you_, Christine?" Nadir joked warmly, casting a glance at Erik.

Christine stopped waving, looking up at Erik with a confused, but amused look on her face. "I suppose not."

Erik's cheeks shuddered as Christine smiled at him. Why was she _looking_ at him that way? "Erik didn't... He... I... Didn't want them there..."

Christine grinned, showing her pearly teeth, as she said, "It's alright. _Christine_ didn't want them there either."

Erik stared at Christine in shock, feeling his cheeks press to the velvet covering the inside of his mask. She had... She had _mimicked_ him. And she certainly looked pleased with herself as she took his hand, interlocking her fingers with his. Erik watched the corners of her lips lift up, her eyes softening as she rubbed his thumb with the pad of hers as she held his hand so carefully. Erik laughed, out of relief, and Christine looked happier, laughing with him as they all began to walk towards the elevators. With Christine on his left, snuggled up to his side, and Nadir on his right, watching both of them with peaceful contentment, Erik felt as though he was the luckiest man in the world. How had Christine managed to be so understanding, so _willing_ to accept all of him, no matter how strange he spoke or how abnormal he acted. How was he so lucky to have captured the attentions of the most enchanting and sympathetic creatures on the planet?

Nadir proceeded to look through his phone as they walked down the corridor, while Christine occasionally squeezed his hand, her bare arm brushing against his jacket, commenting on a few issues that Nadir had raised. Erik was inclined to ignore Nadir as he tried to talk about business. How could he think of anything other than his lovely Christine when she was so close to him, looking at him with curious smiles, giggling whenever his mask titled down towards her. He didn't understand what it was about his mask that was making her laugh, but he was happy to see her so joyful, and he continued watching her.

"Erik?" Nadir asked, looking up at him curiously.

"...Nadir?" Erik asked, pulled away from his thoughts as he stared at Nadir, confused.

"Didn't you hear me?" He asked, holding up her phone. "I was asking if you had signed the papers from Firmin?"

Erik groaned. "Nadir, I _refuse_ to."

"What's Firmin?" Christine asked inquisitively, looking between them.

"Firmin Richard, the producer." Nadir supplied.

"Oh." Christine sighed. "Does he want you to write him some music?"

"Yes," Erik mumbled. "But I have no desire for my name to be attached to his in any form of work. He does not care about the beauty of music, he revels in the beauty of faces."

"And Moncharmin is just as bad." Nadir said, smirking as he added for Christine, "Andre Moncharmin, his partner of sorts. When they're apart, they're manageable, but when they're together they're a force to be reckoned with. They're both idiots, but _successful _idiots. They can put on any show and make it a hit, but they're trying to work in collaboration with Erik to make more money."

"Then don't." Christine said, shrugging casually as she lost interest in the story of the two pinheads. "It's up to you what you do with your talent, and if you don't want to share it with them then they should just accept it. If you haven't signed a contract yet, there's nothing they can do."

Erik looked down at Christine as they reached the elevators. He hadn't noticed that the Giry girl and Sorrelli were gone, he had been entirely wrapped in Christine's presence. She was captivating him with every word, and he was grateful that the other women had not been around to hear Christine's next few words as she turned to look at Nadir with an enthusiastic smile. "But, in the meanwhile, I do believe that we have a slightly more pressing matter at hand."

Erik felt his heart stop as Christine pulled her hands away from him and reached into her purse, holding out her phone to Nadir.

"Would you please take our photo?" Christine asked, her eyes wide as she smiled expectantly, almost _hopefully_.

Erik had forgotten about the photo he had promised her, and looked at Nadir as his heart started to beat again, giving him a head rush as Nadir cast a wary glance to him.

"If you would be so kind, Nadir." Erik asked, politely, as Nadir took it slowly.

Christine took a moment to show Nadir how to open the camera, and what button to press, and she raced back to Erik's side as Nadir took a few steps back, sighing in disbelief as he held the phone up, scrunching his eyes. Erik looked down at Christine in wonder as she smiled, standing on the tips of her toes to sneak her arms up around his neck as she clung to him. She pressed her cheek to the mask's as she looked towards the phone, smiling naturally. Her chest was pressed to his the side of his chest as she kept her head turned towards Nadir, and Erik's first instinct had been to recoil. She had never dared to touch his mask before with a purposeful intent. It had always brushed against her when she had allowed him to hug her, and she had never said a word about it, but now she was openly registering its existence in a way he could not have foreseen. Erik tried to hold her steady, his hand holding her hips as she pressed herself harder to him, to make sure she was in the shot. Erik couldn't believe his luck. Christine was happy to let him hold her up against his body as she balanced precariously in her heels. He only hoped that she did not fall over again, like she had in her other shoes. She seemed far more confident in these heels, but she still held onto him at every opportunity. Erik just couldn't believe she was even touching the mask with her own cheek, and Erik would have admonished her had it not been the fact that he was relishing the contact. It was because of his sheer willpower that he had managed not to fling her from him. The last time someone had willingly touched his mask... it had not ended well. But this was different, Erik assured himself. Christine had no desire to remove his mask, it didn't even cross her mind, as she was busy watching Nadir hold her phone out closer to their faces. Erik pressed his own cheek to the inside of the mask, as Christine's attention was distracted, and wished there was a way to feel the heat of her skin against his grotesque face. He closed his eyes. It would never happen, and he would just to console himself with his morbid fantasies.

Nadir took the photo, and Erik opened his eyes as he heard a noise to confirm the photo had been taken, and his hands had lingered a little longer than necessary around Christine's hips. Christine pulled her face away, turning her head to look at him, as she took careful breaths, her glossy lips almost brushing against the mask's cheek. She still had her arms wrapped around his neck, her bare skin brushing against his, still balancing herself on her toes as she looked at him. Her lips were slightly parted, and he could hear her soft breathing. It was like a clock, just ticking away, and Erik could almost count the seconds. Christine would only have to lean forward an inch and her lips would be touching the mask. But she wouldn't, there would be no point to imagine such pleasure. She would never think to kiss _him_, let alone his mask, and Erik felt incredibly hot beneath the white plastic as he stared at Christine's lips. They were so captivating, it was making his heart beat so fast just looking at them. Christine started to tilt her head up ever so slowly, and pressed her pink, glossy lips to the corner of the mask's lips so quickly that Erik hadn't even been sure that it had happened.

Erik unintentionally gripped Christine tighter to him, his breathing becoming quite heavy and loud as it pounded against the inside of his mask. He couldn't think clearly. He couldn't take his eyes from Christine, afraid he would miss some change in her expression. He looked for any trace of emotion that would tell him whether or not she had actually... had kissed his mask. She had kissed it, without any fear, with no malice or disgust. He hadn't even asked her, she had given it of her own free will. His cheek burned, partially from the way he had rubbed it against the inside of the mask when Nadir had been taking the photograph, but it was also because of Christine's shy little peck. Christine had lowered herself back down to the ground, one hand on his chest, the other on his back between his shoulder blades, and she was watching him carefully. She looked so small, so unsure of how he would react, and she dropped her head, biting her lip as she stared at the floor. Erik's hand darted to her cheek, but he held it back, his glove tracing the air around her jaw. Her eyes lifted, drawn to the soft black leather, and Erik gave in as he allowed his thumb to graze her skin.

She had kissed his mask. It was still an outlandish thought to him. Erik was so unaccustomed to having someone's lips so close to his face. He had closed his eyes, repeating the memory of the look in her eyes, the way they had closed once her lips hit the cold plastic. Christine deserved so much better than him. He could always take pleasure from her lips, even if he could only stare at them, but she would never once get to know just how much he wanted to kiss her back. If he could kiss her, if only for a second, even on her little fingers, then he could count himself a lucky man. Perhaps Christine's dress was working.

* * *

**Thank you everyone so being so patient! You guys are amazing! I'm afraid this chapter is slightly different from what it used to be, I tried to remeber everything, but I've gotten the main points!**

**Omg, I'm so sorry, I've just realised this chapter comes to nearly 8,000 words. OOPS.**

**This was so long to write! I wanted to make sure it was well worth the read!**

**This chapter is dedicated to Kalia of Camelot, whose birthday it is on Tuesday, so go give her lots of hugs and kisses! Sorry Kalia, I know it's not a new chapter, but I thought this piece of fluff would keep you happy. I was going to wait to upload this until I had completely finished, but I couldn't resist it. **


	20. Chapter 20

**_Naughty Boy's 'La La La'_**

_La la, la la la..._

_Hush, don't speak_  
_When you spit your venom, keep it shut I hate it_  
_When you hiss and preach_  
_About your new messiah 'cause your theories catch fire_

_I can't find your silver lining_  
_I don't mean to judge_  
_But when you read your speech, it's tiring_  
_Enough is enough_

_I'm covering my ears like a kid_  
_When your words mean nothing, I go la la la_  
_I'm turning off the volume when you speak_  
_Cause if my heart can't stop it, I found a way to block it, I go_  
_La la, la la la..._  
_La la, la la la..._  
_I found a way to block it, I go_  
_La la, la la la..._  
_La la, la la la..._

* * *

After saying hello to the driver, who gave Christine a friendly wave, Erik opened the limousine's passenger door and allowed Nadir to enter. He turned to Christine, his mask unusually bright in the underground garage lights, and took her hands, leading her into her seat. Christine adjusted herself in her seat, embarrassed by both of their conduct in the last twenty minutes or so, and tried to calm herself before Erik got into the seat on the other side of the limo. Nadir was sitting opposite her, sitting across from a mini bar, where he was already helping himself to a drink. Christine was feeling rather flushed as she replayed the memory of her kissing Erik's mask. She had kissed him on the corners of the mask's lips, her nose lightly touching his as it lasted for only a second. Nadir had noticed, and looked panicked, which Christine hadn't realized until she had gotten into the limousine. What there something wrong with giving Erik a light peck? Erik had seemed overwhelmed, but did that mean he liked it? Maybe it hadn't been one of Christine's best ideas, but it had seemed natural to kiss him. Throughout their journey, Christine felt a thought nagging her in the back of her mind, and she was sure it was going to give her a migraine if she didn't address it.

Could Erik really have a terrible temper? He had acted so strangely when she had mentioned Raoul, without mentioning his name, though she had answered honestly when he asked. But had Erik told the truth when she had asked about his past relationships? He had said there was no-one, but Meg's story, and Carlotta's words made her wonder about Erik. He had said his name when referring to himself for the second time now. That wasn't a normal trait, but then again, Erik wasn't a normal person.

Wasn't it at least possible that he could have a temper? He had shown anger when he grabbed her arm back on the yacht, though he had apologized, and she tried to reason that anyone would be angry about an invasion of privacy, but then she had remembered the waiter back at the awards ceremony, and the tone of voice that he had used on the poor man. Erik didn't seem to like anyone, apart from Nadir, but he was never really pleasant to him.

Being curled up against him as they drove through Manhattan, it was hard for to believe such things had happened, as Erik talked to her softly with his face buried in her hair, his words muffled not only by the mask, but by her thick blonde ringlets. Everything was perfect, so why did Christine feel so apprehensive? She could tell there was something he was keeping from her, Nadir's comments back at the hotel concerning Sorrelli and Meg had confirmed that when Erik had interrupted him. There was something he was hiding from her. She wanted to trust him, every fiber of her being was telling her that Erik wasn't just another boyfriend. He was serious about her, as much as she was serious about him, but if he had a temper, would that be turned against her if he became unhappy?

Christine shivered, and Erik rubbed her arms, asking her if she was cold. She told him no, and he sat in silence with her as she thought about the next few days she would be spending with Erik, and her eventual departure. What did Erik think was going to happen? He must have realized that she would be leaving, so was he planning to talk about her about it? Would he try to stop her?

She looked up at Erik, placing her hand over his heart. He looked at her, and laughed.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked merrily, looking directly into her upturned face.

"Erik, you know that I leave on Sunday, don't you?" She asked, wondering if there was an easier way to see how Erik would react to the mere mention of her leaving.

Erik stared towards the driver's seat. Nadir had stopped tapping on his phone and was now listening in closely, looking up without moving his head. Erik impatiently tapped his fingers on his knee.

"I am acutely aware of that fact."

"Alright." Christine said flatly. His tone definitely wasn't pleased. Even Nadir had looked up to see Erik's reaction, and he was still watching them in fact.

They both were watching her, giving each other concerned glances, as she stared out of the window, her eyes lowered as she rested her head on Erik's shoulder, feeling as though someone had dropped a ton of bricks on her. Carlotta was right. Was it possible then, that Meg's story about Erik and Carlotta was true? Had Carlotta gotten too close, and Erik turned on her? Would Erik do that to her? Was Carlotta really looking out for her? Christine began to regret the way she had spoken to her, and wished she could apologize to the singer.

"You're concerned about me, aren't you Christine?" Erik sighed dejectedly, brushing his hands through her hair. She had whispered her little secret that she hadn't been able to stop thinking about his hands through her hair all day, and he had laughed out of amazement, promising to do it always.

Christine was relieved that Erik had somehow read her mind, and she laughed too, nodding her head. "Yes, I am."

"Do not worry for me, but I do believe I should worry for you, my dear. You'll miss these hands terribly, I think." He jested, moving her hair from around her neck and away from her face.

"I'll miss _you_." She protested severely.

"Well then it's a good thing that Erik owns a private jet or he wouldn't be able to visit you." Nadir said pointedly to Erik, pressing on some point that Christine was missing.

Erik said nothing, briefly looking up at Nadir, but he returned his gaze back to Christine, his hand curled around her neck as she looked up at him. His thumb traced along her jawline, until it reached her chin, where it hovered close to her lips. Christine felt warm, much like she had back in her hotel bedroom when she had been talking about Erik's voice. Her mind had wavered as she thought about the lips beneath the mask, and she had unintentionally looked at them before Nadir had knocked on the door. She had been debating whether or not his lips would be soft. Erik had watched her compose herself as she tried to forget about Erik's lips and got herself ready. Was Erik thinking about kissing her now? He began to lean in closer to her, as though he intended to kiss her, and Christine stared up at him, wide eyed, her heart beating rapidly as she clutched his coat lapel.

"We're here." Nadir interrupted, stumbling over Christine's feet to let himself out, giving Erik a cursory glance, into another back alley.

"Christine..." Erik whispered, in a dark, unleashed voice that made Christine feel strange. It wasn't like the way he had said her name before, and it made her uneasy as she wondered what Erik was thinking, though by the sound of his voice, it wasn't innocent.

Nadir leaned into the limo. "_Now_, Erik."

Erik pulled away from Christine, his face trained on her and he took several deep breaths as he allowed Christine to get out first. He followed, shortly after, and Christine watched as Erik stood close to Christine, clenching his hands into fists as he stood erect. "I'm sorry Christine, I think your perfume may have gotten to my head. It's honey that I can smell, isn't it?"

Christine nodded distractedly. "Yeah."

"It's enchanting." He replied, taking her arm and wrapping it around his. He sensed her hesitation and sighed, patting her hand. "I think my actions as of late have been inexcusable. You _must_ forgive me, Christine."

"Erik, your actions have been fine." Christine said, patting his hand back. "I just think you're a little worked up. You need to relax."

"How can I Christine when I am around you? You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I'm scared of losing you."

Christine smiled, interlocking their fingers as she held his hand. "Then don't lose me." She said seriously. "Don't be afraid to tell me how you feel. If you're upset, then I want to know so I can make you feel better."

"I won't lose you." Erik promised. "And you make me feel better simply by standing beside me. I feel like I have the strength of a thousand men."

"Oh really?" Christine teased as they walked over to Nadir, who was speaking to what looked like a security guard, who was stood to one side of a large black door with no handle. "Well then I should warn you that you might not feel that way once you see what I have waiting for you. Though it really isn't my doing, this was Nadir's suggestion."

"I knew it." Erik said, pausing as he shook his fist. "_Meddler_."

Christine laughed, pulling him after her. "He's not so bad! I had no idea where to take you, so that's why I needed to talk to Nadir. I was hoping he'd confide to some special place you like to go, but he suggested this instead!"

"Christine, I'm not good at parties-"

Christine spun around, her mouth wide open as she stared at him in horror. "Did Nadir tell you? I can't believe him!" She looked away, trying not to smirk as she copied Erik, shaking her little fist as she muttered, "_Meddler_."

She looked up to grin at him, to see his reaction, and he laughed, curling his arm around her neck and brought her closer to his face as he said teasingly, "No, Christine. We must not mock him. He is a lonely man after all, and we must amuse him in his old age."

They laughed together as they both approached Nadir, who was peering around at them, frowning as he complained, "We're late, _like I knew we'd be_!"

"You're not that late." The security guard consoled, worriedly looking about as he noticed Erik stand directly before him. Christine could see that the security guard was a large, thick muscled man, but his hands were shaking as he looked up at the Erik's imposing figure.

"Sorry, that would be my fault." Christine confessed, holding one hand up.

"Why are you apologizing?" Erik asked, looking down at her.

Christine leaned back to whisper in Erik's ear. "Cos if someone doesn't say something then St Peter at the gate here is going to have a heart attack."

Erik laughed as his arm lowered to rest around her hips. Christine smiled, and turned back to smile enthusiastically at the doorman, when a voice spoke out from inside the open door.

"Hundred bucks says it's Erik's fault." said a voice with a distinct New York accent from inside the building, behind the security guard.

Christine held her breath excitedly. She knew that voice, it was so distinctive, so recognizable. Erik watched her as she impatiently fidgeted, as a tall, tanned woman appeared in the doorway. Her hair was thick and red, falling over her shoulders, onto her long green dress and her eyes were directed at Christine, who was still holding her breath. Tori Mayner was standing only a few feet away from her, her red lips pursed as she took in Christine's appearance. Erik pinched Christine's hip, making Christine jump. She immediately stuck her hand out so they could shake hands, but Tori Mayner had other ideas. She squealed, sticking her arms out widely on either side of her as she completely took Christine into her arms and enveloped her completely, hugging her.

"Oh my God you're _hugging_ me." Christine murmured to herself in one long breath.

Tori Mayner laughed again. "I sure am, sweetie. God, it's so nice to meet you. You're all anyone is talking about. You look gorgeous, Christine. May I call you that?"

Erik jealously pulled Christine away from Tori Mayner and held her against him. Christine smiled, dazed as she stared at one of the most beautiful women in the world. Tori Mayner had been in so many classic films, and it wasn't hard to see why. The woman had the purity of a virgin, the tenaciousness of a cobra and the concern of a loving mother. Outside of work, her work in Africa, and her protests for equal rights had always inspired Christine. To see her standing only a few feet away made Christine feel light on her feet as she answered,

"Yes, Miss Mayner."

Tori Mayner smiled, showing all of her perfect white teeth, and said, "Now don't start that. You can call me Tori." She glanced at Erik warily. "I know _you_ won't."

"Miss Mayner, I suppose I have you to thank for throwing us a party on such short notice." Erik said irritably, adjusting his grip of Christine as she sank into him.

Tori's eyes were focused on their hands on each other's waist, and she smiled to herself.

"If that's your way of thanking someone, then you need to work on it." Nadir warned, before greeting Tori as they kissed each other's cheek.

"It can't be helped. Everyone simply _has_ to talk to you two, and the only way anyone is going to do that is if you come out of your cave and say hi!" Tori said innocently, though the comment was quite cruel, in Christine's opinion.

Christine could hear Erik grit his teeth. "I quite enjoy my cave, thank you very much." He answered, squeezing Christine's hand on his hip.

Tori shrugged as she turned back to Christine, her interest in Erik lost now that she was here. "So, I want you to meet some people, and you just have to say hi to Michel, he's our chef for tonight, and he's whipped up some treats for you that I think you'll find delightful. He's made you some American themed desserts, and he's eager to see what you think of-"

"Oh, Erik did that too! He gave me a hamper of both British and American food when we were on the yacht, it was fantastic!" Christine said as they all followed Tori down a long corridor, into a waiting elevator.

"That's ... sweet." Tori said impatiently, clearly not amused by the direction the conversation was going.

"It was so lovely, Erik has just blown me away with every little thing he does. He got me the most beautiful roses this morning as well." Christine praised, feeling Erik stand straighter, drawing himself up as he watched Christine. She turned her head to look up at him, smiling sweetly.

"Uh huh." Tori said, smiling to herself as she snuck a quick glance towards Nadir, who smiled back at her. "So, you two are really dating then? This isn't a publicity stunt?"

Christine protested. "Aren't you dating that Canadian graffiti artist? Nick Skinner?"

"Yeah, I am. I just," She paused to think. "I never imagined Erik ever dating someone. He's just such a recluse, you know, and it just seems so _weird_ that on the one night that Erik leaves his home, he meets you, and the two of you instantly hit it off. I mean, that's one hell of a kick from destiny, don't you think?"

Christine shrugged. "I suppose I can see what you mean. But doesn't that kind of make it more magical? I'm so thankful that we did meet. I don't know what I'd be doing now if we hadn't met. I wouldn't be as happy as I am right now."

Erik buried his face in Christine's hair once again, turning her so she faced him, and wrapped his arms around her midriff, holding her tight to him, ignoring Nadir rolling his eyes and Tori's embarrassed blush. She smiled however as the doors to the elevator opened to reveal a large studio apartment, exquisitely furnished, and Christine looked up to see nearly 30 pairs of eyes from around the room snap to attention and stare in their direction. Christine squirmed deeper in Erik's side, and looked up at him.

"Please don't leave me alone."

"I won't, Christine. Nothing could tear me from your side." He answered. "Just don't expect me to be of any help, I'm useless here."

Christine smiled as Tori led the way into the apartment, with Nadir following behind her, leaving Erik and Christine in the elevator.

Erik held up her hands to his face, moving so he could block Christine from interested and prying eyes, his back to them all as he whispered to her, "Christine, we could leave, right now. Let Nadir handle the small talk, we could just go somewhere quiet-"

"We wouldn't want that now, would we?" said Carlotta, stepping into the doorway from the side, smiling as her hands gripped the sides of the elevator as she leaned in. She was stunning, a real beauty. She was of Spanish decent, with long wavy black hair, a full figure and a voice to match it. Christine wasn't sure what to say, now realizing that she would have to explain to Erik that they had sort of met already.

Christine peered over Erik's shoulder as Erik froze. "Er, hello, Miss Giudicelli."

"Hello Christine." She said intimately, stepping into the elevator to press her hands on Erik's shoulders. "Hello Erik." She said lightly.

Erik released Christine, and stood upright. "Good evening, Miss Giudicelli."

"_Miss_?" Carlotta laughed, pressing her pleasant body against Erik. "I think we know each other much better than that."

Christine took a step back, cringing at Carlotta's behaviour, but Erik mourned her loss, holding his hands out, as though reaching out for her over a long distance. He took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists, and turned towards Carlotta with venom. Carlotta took a step back, throwing her hands up.

"Hey, take it easy, darling. We weren't even talking about the mask!"

Erik stopped suddenly, looking as though a thousand men were holding him back.

"Hello Carlotta, I didn't know you were here." Tori said, striding through the crowd as everyone stepped aside and created a path for her.

Carlotta turned around and instantly locked eyes with Tori as she approached and stood before her. "I snuck in, I was surprised at how easy it was. They even let Erik in."

"Carlotta, just stop. You weren't invited and no-one wants you here. You should leave." Tori threatened, throwing her hands up in annoyance. "Alright, go take your bitch pills somewhere else, okay?"

Carlotta smoothly scanned the room, looking at the various people as though they were ants, with a scowl on her face. "Well, I can see you've taken yours already."

She turned to Erik, her eyes not quite meeting Erik's as she said, "Well, it's been nice not seeing you."

She stepped around Erik, and joined Christine in the elevator. Erik spun around to watch as Christine was about to leave the lift to avoid sharing it with the strange woman, when Carlotta grabbed her wrist.

"I told you, beware his temper." She whispered in Christine's ear so only they could hear.

Christine recoiled from Carlotta's touch, her eyes flitting up to Erik's mask, before she skipped out of Carlotta's grasp and stood close to Erik.

"Still wanting that quiet cozy getaway, Erik? I know a good spot, it's two blocks from the sewers, you should know it, right?"

"Sure, you have to follow the sewers to get the sewage treatment plant that you call home, _right_?" Christine asked sourly, feeling bold as Carlotta widened her eyes at what she had just heard.

Carlotta watched Christine, breathing deeply as she tilted her head to one side and observed her.

"It's been nice finally meeting you, Christine. I enjoyed our chat the other day."

Christine held her breath she watched Carlotta blow a kiss to Erik before the elevator doors shut, leaving Christine and Erik to awkwardly look towards each other. No-one in the room spoke, and Tori approached the two of them, standing in-between them.

"Ignore Carlotta, she's a right 'See you next Tuesday' if you catch my drift."

"_Christine_." Erik began terribly, his hands wavering up towards Christine's own hands.

"Erik." Christine answered as she fell into Erik's embrace, stunning him as he held her, and Christine pressed her cheek against his chest. "It's okay."

"Christine, her words-"

"-Mean nothing. I know you're not the guy she's trying to paint you as. I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want to worry you, but Carlotta and I spoke on the phone the other night."

"Christine." Erik purred, brushing his hands through her hair, desolately. "We can talk about this later, my dear. Now, I have to find Nadir and kill him for allowing this to happen!"

Christine pulled away. "It isn't his fault. No-one could predict that she would have turned up."

Erik sighed as everyone went back to chatting, and Christine felt they had a few moments left of pretend privacy before they would be forced to play the happy couple. "I know, but I wish you hadn't seen that."

"Don't worry, like you said, we can talk about everything later. Let's just forget about her for now and enjoy ourselves." Christine said, taking Erik's hand and weaved her fingers through his. She was trying to hide her true feelings from him, it would only upset him if he knew how badly Carlotta had scared her.

Erik nodded, squeezing her hand. "I liked your comeback, by the way."

"Thanks," Christine smiled. "I don't know where it came from! I can't argue for the life of me but that was awesome!"

Erik laughed, pulling her close to stand beside him as Nadir rushed over with drinks in either hand and handed one to Christine, moaning on about Carlotta and apologising to Christine for having experienced such a thing. Christine wasn't listening; she was paying attention to Erik without trying to let him know. He seemed calmer, scanning the room as he held onto Christine like a puppet, or maybe he was just preening, showing her off like a trophy. Christine shook the entire affair off, and tried to relax as other people slowly began to join them, complaining also about Carlotta and how rude she was.

* * *

**Thank you so much for your amazing reviews. Your lovely messages have been amazing, and they're just what I needed to read after having such a hard few days! I'm so happy to be back, writing this story for you!**

**I'm attending graudation today, so wish me luck everyone!**

**Please do leave a review, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me!**


	21. Chapter 21

**_Kiss's 'Modern Day Delilah'_**

_I still remember when I saw your face across the room_  
_Told me to take you but the price of love would seal my doom_  
_I know the way you made the others break_  
_But lovin' me would be your first mistake_

_Same old ways, modern day Delilah_  
_It's time you learned to give_  
_Queen to slave, modern day Delilah_

_Listen_  
_You lived your glory in a liar's haze you called the truth_  
_The same old story of a social climb from wasted youth_  
_You thought that you could bring me to my knees_  
_But who's the one who's cryin' baby please_

_Same old ways, modern day Delilah_  
_It' time you learned to give_  
_Queen to slave, modern day Delilah_

_Just like the trigger on a loaded gun_  
_You were the reason for the damage done_  
_Too many lovers like a hunter's prey_  
_Not today_

* * *

Christine had been unusually quiet through the limo ride, and Erik wasn't sure if everything was okay. She had seemed perfectly fine back in the hotel, but now they were on their way, Christine seemed to hide under a black cloud. She was still up nestled up against him, thinking hard as she stared at a spot on the floor, speaking when spoken to, and Erik watched her seriously. Had it been the kiss on Erik's cheek? It had been ambrosial, the perfume she was wearing only adding to his imagination as he replayed the memory in his head. He was as distracted as Christine as they both sat in silence until Christine asked if he knew that she was leaving on the Sunday. He did know. It was four days away. Four days in which he had to pleasure himself with her company, four days to serenade her with his music, and four days of tormented bliss.

He had tried to tell Christine that he knew, but it must have come out wrong, as Christine looked away slowly, saying only one word. Erik had stared at Nadir, wanting to ask what was wrong with Christine, but Nadir didn't seem to know either, as they just ended up looking between each other and Christine as they monitored her. Why had Christine asked him that? Was she worried that she would never see him again? Hadn't he promised her on the yacht that he would protect her? Was she concerned about how he would take it? He had asked her, and she answered in the affirmative, and he had tried to play off the ill humors with a jibe about his hands and they way they constantly found themselves in her hair, to Christine's satisfaction, she had told him. She ignored the comment about his hands and told him brutally that she would miss him. Nadir had made some comment about Erik's private jet but Erik was choosing to ignore him as he looked deep into Christine's wide eyes, noticing the light dancing off of them, as well as her pink lips. Without thought, his hand had drifted along her jawline like a gentle wave. Christine's breathing got lighter as she tried to hold herself still, and Erik stopped as he reached her perfect chin which led to her shining, plump lips. She had been so timid, and Erik leaned in as the villain inside him convinced him as she would readily accept him into her bed. Erik couldn't help but listen as Christine grabbed his coat lapel, and Erik barely held back a groan as he enjoyed Christine's open neck and shoulders. He could smell honey, sweet and creamy, and beneath that, was the smell that had been on her pillow.

Nadir had interrupted the moment, thankfully bringing Erik out of his raw state, and after they both darted out of the limousine Erik apologized profusely, berating himself for such shameful, loathsome thoughts. She forgave him, as he hoped she would, and was beginning to learn that she always would, and they strolled carelessly towards Nadir. Erik let slip that he knew it was a party, and Christine seemed shocked, mocking Erik as she shook her fist, hunched over as she repeated what Erik had done only a few seconds earlier. He laughed, eager to see such a playful side of Christine. They had shared a private, silly joke about Nadir, and Christine laughed, full of mirth as Erik knew his life was perfect. Christine was _his_.

They had joined Nadir, speaking briefly with the security guard, and Erik tried to act normally before the man, but clearly reputation had come first and the man was terrified of him. Christine seemed unperturbed, but then turned solid as a voice spoke, and one that she recognized. Victoria Mayner appeared, looking as energetic as always. Erik didn't mind Victoria, it was just she was too boisterous. She was beautiful, but she was no Christine. Victoria approached Christine, hugging her suddenly like a child would as she forgot all formalities and focused on talking to Christine.

Christine was dazed, and Erik watched in amusement as Christine began to turn pink, sucking on her lips when she wasn't saying anything, and quickly blurting out everything in a long, drawn out breaths. Erik didn't like the way Christine had forgotten about him, and pulled her back to him by pinching her dress around her hips and tugging on it. The conversation soon turned back to Christine, and Erik shot Nadir several looks, but doubted if Nadir even knew what he was trying to convey, which was annoyance. But then he had listened, and found that Christine was praising him, to someone she didn't know properly, and it made him feel superhuman. They entered the elevator, and the conversation had soon turned to Erik and Christine's sudden relationship, but Christine had an answer for that too, and said that it only made their relationship more magical, and Erik had ignored everything around him and took the simple pleasure of smelling her hair again. It smelt good, like tea tree and mango, but then when Erik pulled away, he could smell the honey cream she was wearing.

The doors had opened, and everyone in the room that had been spread out in various groups, holding drinks and chatting, looked up, and Erik observed each of their faces. They seemed nervous, but curious. That was fine, he was eager to display Christine, but he was hoping that no-one would approach them.

Looking down at Christine, she seemed nervous too. She begged him not to leave her side, and he promised her. Was she scared of a few people? Or was she scared of how he would react to them? He had to stop that sort of thinking immediately, before that thought started spreading. He had started to plead her to let him take her away, to let him woo her somewhere else, but then a ghost from Erik's past appeared.

Erik cursed Carlotta's very existence the moment her slimy hands landed on his shoulders, her sharp nails digging into his suit. Carlotta had opposed how he had greeted her, insinuating that there was something more between them. Christine had angelically stood close to him, her eyes searching Erik's face for some grain of truth, and pulled herself away, cringing. Erik cried, was she imagining Erik and Carlotta lying together intimately? What was she thinking? Was she disgusted? Was she horrified? Why is it _Christine_ always knew just what to say, and _Erik _always seemed to screw things up? _He_ was supposed to be unreadable, not Christine. Poor, sweet Christine was looking at Carlotta as though someone had stabbed her in the stomach. Erik spun around, fattening himself on fantasies of Carlotta's snapped neck. She had stepped away coolly, out of the elevator, and dared to bring up his mask.

His thoughts had been drawn to Christine as he restrained himself from attacking the vile snake that stood before him, her wild eyes gleaming as everyone watched them. He would not lose his temper; he would not scare Christine any more than she already was.

_Please, forgive me._ He thought desperately.

Tori had thankfully stepped in, and Erik's only concern had been Christine, who was watching Carlotta, looking very small and defenceless. After a few unpleasant remarks were tossed about, Carlotta soon left, whispering something secret to Christine with a disgruntled look on her face, while Christine's eyes wavered, and flickered up to Erik.

_No! Don't believe her Christine! Please!_ He screamed in his head as Christine gave the smallest of frowns, and left the elevator as fast as she could.

Christine stood a few feet across from him, watching Carlotta as her face turned sour, and Christine stood tall, staring daggers at Carlotta when she finally insulted her. Carlotta hadn't liked it, returning the look with contempt before revealing that Christine and Carlotta had previously talked. Erik couldn't believe what he had heard. How had Carlotta managed to get a hold of Christine? What had they discussed, and was that why Christine had been so on edge? Erik didn't want to believe Carlotta's words were true. Erik's resistance to the idea of Carlotta corrupting Christine's mind against him was wearing thin. Carlotta left, and both he and Christine looked at each other. He wasn't aware of anything else in the room, his mind spinning as thoughts of his past with Carlotta infested Christine's opinion of him. What if she found out _everything_? Would she be scared of him?

_She'll run and you'll never see her again. You deserve this. You do not deserve happiness._ His mother reminded him.

Christine looked up at Erik, her eyes glistening with sorrow as she stared at him, before collapsing into his arms and letting him hold her as she acknowledged her earlier conversation with Carlotta and tried to assuage his fears. It did nothing to help, as he still felt restless, wondering what Carlotta and Christine had discussed, and whether it changed her opinion of him. Christine said that they would talk about the incident after the party, but Erik wanted to discuss it now, and it annoyed him that he couldn't just pull her aside and interrogate her. But he had to console himself. This wasn't Iran, he didn't do that anymore. Nadir turned up with drinks, as everyone went back to talking, though still interested in Erik and Christine.

"I'm so sorry, never in a thousand years would I have imagined that Carlotta would turn up." He said in disbelief.

"Then perhaps you should shut up." Erik snapped to Nadir, not wanting Christine to get upset.

But Christine only stared at him, frowning. Erik sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I understand that you're upset about Carlotta, but Nadir didn't deserve that."

Erik grumpily turned to Nadir and mumbled, "Sorry, Nadir. You understand, of course?"

"Of course." Nadir replied, nodding. He turned to Christine, handing her a tall glass of champagne, holding onto his drink. "Now Christine, would you like me to introduce you to some people?"

Christine shyly looked up at Erik. He was reluctant to being instantly thrust into the spotlight, but if it would ease Christine's mind, then he would allow it. He offered his arm, and Christine joined him, smiling as they followed Nadir about the room, introducing her to the odd person. Erik knew every person here, and ignored them mostly, but Christine was only able to identify the most recognizable people, such as the singers and actors. Most of the people that she didn't know were mostly producers, or important businessmen, but Christine treated them all equally, shaking hands with each one of them, her other hand interlocked with Erik's. They all seemed to like her, commenting on her videos, and how they had seen all of the reports about them, and how they were just blown away by how romantic it all was. Erik wasn't impressed. It was just useless conversation to him, but Christine was brightening up, falling back into her cheery self as she asked about their jobs, and made some interesting comments that amused the other guests. Everyone seemed charmed by her, and Erik felt magnificent as Christine began to praise Erik again, still going on about her roses and everyone seemed to be looking at Erik differently.

Erik was only standing beside Christine, who was the main attraction, and several people had now surrounded them, making Erik feel very boxed in. Christine was fine, however, their interlaced fingers playing with each other in some strange game that Erik didn't understand.

"I liked those videos too." Said some teenage popstar with too much gel in his hair, sipping on a coke.

Erik tried to bring himself back into the conversation as he listened to Christine's soothing voice eagerly reply, "Yeah it's one of my most popular segments. I love all of their presents, and their drawings and letters really make my day."

They must have been talking about Christine's mail vlogs, which she did quite often. Erik had watched as her fans spilled their creative abilities in the most unusual things. She had mentioned in an earlier video of her admiration for a tv show, and fans had responded wildly, commenting on her video as they shared their love, and in the following mail vlog, Christine had somehow ended up with three shirts, one scarf, four show related toys and a ton of drawings of Christine and the show. Erik enjoyed those videos as well, and would have said something, but the pop star spoke again.

"I loved 'Gustave'. It was so beautiful. I downloaded it onto my phone and I listen to it all the time now."

Erik realized they were talking about her song, that was dedicated to her father. He sharply looked at Christine, but she seemed calm.

"I'm glad you like it." She said sweetly, but squeezed Erik's hand tightly.

"Are you planning on releasing an album?" The pop stared asked curiously. Erik remembered his name now. It was Nate Gorman.

"No, singing isn't really a priority right now." Christine answered, squeezing Erik's hand again.

He watched her as she still smiled at everyone, remaining perfectly calm. He knew she was grieving, and possibly angry, but she managed to keep it inside and carry on with her life, while he struggled to remember anger management techniques. How was Christine able to do it? What could he learn from this woman that he had never before? The conversation soon turned back to her videos, and Christine eagerly joined in, loosening her grip on Erik's hand, which allowed him to squeeze her back.

"Which one is your favourite?" She asked him as the others discussed her early videos.

Erik thought about it. His favourite was the video where she had gone exploring a forested valley in the Peak District called 'Padley Gorge'. She had been climbing over massive boulders, paddling through the stream with her jeans rolled up, picnicking on what looked like moorland. She had been exhausted by the end of the video, her knees scraped, ants in her food, her leg cramping as she tried to walk it off, and it had amused Erik to no end.

"I like them all but if I had to pick one, I would say 'Adventure Fail'." Erik said, grinning as he watched Christine's surprised reaction.

"You mean the one where I nearly died trying to escape a forest?" She recalled, groaning as she rolled her eyes. The other guests who had overheard laughed, and Erik looked up at them, slowly turning his head about the room. It was amazing how Christine was able to captivate an audience and bend them to her will. It was her own hypnotic voice, that just made everyone fall into this pleasant mood. She really was destined for greatness.

"Which one is your favourite, then?" Erik asked, squeezing her hand as he bit his lip.

"Ooh, I'm not sure. It changes from day to day. Sometimes it's one of the more technically difficult ones with special effects, like the fake movie I made for one of my videos?"

Erik recalled that video. She had been poking fun at some high adrenaline action movie, and joked that she could make a better movie, which she had in under 5 minutes. It was filled with incredibly cheesy jokes and terrible cliches. Erik had laughed whenever Christine pulled a silly face or acted playful in her videos. It was just Christine, being herself. Erik enjoyed watching her videos, as it allowed him to spy on Christine and a perfectly acceptable manner.

"But then on other days, I like the ones where I just talk."

"So, you planning on doing anything else while you're here? I want to see more of you two hanging out." Inquired Tori, munching on something that smelled foul in Erik's opinion.

Christine looked up at Erik, smiling as she answered, "I don't know. I'll have to wait and see."

Erik smiled, glad that no-one could see his face, as his eyes were closed as he quickly sent a thankful prayer to God. Christine had admitted to believing that a force greater than themselves had brought them together. If Christine believed that _God_ had sent him to her, then he could only hope that it was to be her guardian angel. It was one advantage to having a mask, he could think and express whatever he wanted to, and no-one could judge him for it. Looking at Christine's optimistic face made him grin hard, and it was hard to believe that Carlotta had almost ruined their night. He squeezed her hand, and she laughed, shaking her head as she said,

"We've got four more days. I want to spend them with Erik, but I also really want to explore New York. But in either case, I'm just happy to be here."

"You should go to top of the Empire State building! You'd love the view!" A blond woman said enthusiastically.

"That _is_ something I wanted to see!" Christine said conspiratorially. "I also wanted to go to Times Square, and hopefully meet a few of my followers, but I guess that's over."

She glanced casually up at Erik, pulling a fed up face, and then smirked.

"Oh, ignore the press. They can't find anything really worthy to report so they invest their time squabbling over the lives of famous people. What you need to do is learn how to use them. You've got to give them something interesting to keep them happy. Build relationships with some of them and they'll show you in the tabloids exactly the way you need to look." Suggested a tall gentleman that Erik knew to be a British tennis player. His name was Nick Lambert, and he had been getting chatty, and it was obvious that he liked Christine.

"That's a good idea," Erik said, trying his hardest not to look like a jealous child. "But I don't believe that would work."

"Why not?" Christine asked innocently. "If it will help keep them away then I think we should try it."

Erik looked down at her petulantly. "Didn't you say that they would destroy everything between us?"

"Yes, but what if I'm wrong? If we're ever going to be a normal couple then we need to make them understand that we are in control of our lives."

A few people laughed at the normal comment, and Christine peered around darkly, making them stop instantly. She turned back to Erik calmly and continued.

"So what do you think?"

Erik wondered if Christine knew how much those five little words meant to him. She wanted his opinion and was willing to listen to it.

"I think we should do what you think is best. After all,_ I_ have no experience with interacting positively towards the media."

Christine smiled, but a few people laughed. Erik looked up at them, smiling to himself, but he knew that he must have looked odd with the mask, and turned to look back down at Christine.

"We can figure it out later." He said, rubbing her knuckles with pride as the crowd around him smiled as they watched them both stare at each other.

"Alright." Christine said, smiling brightly.

"Okay folks, let's get some music going while we leave these two alone." Tori announced, turning around to wave people away, and Erik was grateful for the assistance. Perhaps Tori had matured somewhat since the last time he had talked with her over the phone.

Some dance music started playing, and the crowd dispersed, leaving them alone. Christine turned in towards Erik as she took both their hands and swung them back and forth to the beat of the song. Erik liked this sweetness of her but he couldn't help but think of Carlotta. Had she convinced Christine that they had been in a relationship? Was it her ploy to take Christine away from him? He needed to handle Carlotta without Christine knowing. He couldn't let Carlotta's vendetta jeopardize the greatest love he would ever know.

"I'm sorry our date went poorly. I was hoping my turn would go a lot smoother." Christine said, frowning.

"Do not worry about a thing, I will handle this." Erik said seriously.

"How, Erik? And on your own? I want to handle this together." She said as she stopped swinging their hands.

"I will not let any harm come to you. I promised you I would protect you."

Christine glared at Erik. "I can protect myself. I'm a big girl, Erik. Carlotta is bad news, I know that."

"Christine, what did she tell you about me. Has she changed your mind about me?" Erik asked pitifully.

Christine looked down at his chest, sighing to herself as she stared at her feet. "She can't change my feelings about you, Erik, no-one can. No-one but you."

* * *

**Thank you so much for your amazing reviews. Your lovely messages have been amazing, and they're just what I needed to read after having such a hard few days! I'm so happy to be back, writing this story for you!**

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	22. Chapter 22

**_Cascada's 'Dangerous'_**

_Don't know anything about you  
So close, just a touch away  
Your love hits me like no other_

_They say I'm a true believer_  
_I know something's taking over now_  
_I wanna run but I don't know how_  
_You just crossed my border now_  
_Just a kiss away_

_Give me a break_  
_I'm melting away_  
_You're so dangerous_  
_Or is it too late?_  
_Gotta know what's on your mind_

_I'm out of control_  
_Cause you want it all_  
_You're so dangerous_  
_My biggest mistake_  
_I'm blinded by your eyes_

_Dangerous_

_I'm out of control_

_Don't you push it to the limit_  
_Cause you know I'm hungry for your touch_  
_No doubt, I wanna be your lover_

_They say, just a pretender_  
_I know something's taking over now_  
_I wanna run but I don't know how_  
_You just crossed my border now_  
_Standing face to face_

_Give me a break_  
_I'm melting away_  
_You're so dangerous_  
_Or is it too late?_  
_Gotta know what's on your mind_

_I'm out of control_  
_Cause you want it all_  
_You're so dangerous_  
_My biggest mistake_  
_I'm blinded by your eyes_

_Dangerous_

* * *

Nadir had been watching both Erik and Christine from a comfortable distance, chatting to the different celebrities as they strolled in and out of his vision. He was concerned. Christine was appearing calm, but looked ready to faint, and Erik seemed oblivious to Christine's misery. Her father's name was mentioned, and Nadir knew that things were only getting worse for the poor girl.

Damn Carlotta. He would pray a thousand prayers for her death. Why could Erik not have peace? Now that he had found his happiness, didn't he deserve it? After all of the torment and the tragedy, could there be no respite for the plague that was Carlotta? Having heard what Carlotta had said, about her and Christine's conversation, made him question Christine motives. It was hard not to, Christine seemed too good to be true. It looked like Carlotta was throwing Christine to the wolves. What if Erik was in danger? What if Christine was under the influence of Carlotta? Wouldn't she be backing out by now, afraid for her life? That was what Nadir would do if he had ever betrayed Erik. Nadir nudged the thought of betrayal to one side, as he concentrated on Christine and Erik.

She seemed to still feel comfortable with him, enough to hold Erik's hands and swing them about now that the crowd around them had left. It was a stupid thought. Christine was undoubtedly crazy for Erik, but there was hesitation, and Nadir knew that Carlotta was some of the reason, because of the way that Carlotta had whispered something in Christine's ear. He knew Carlotta well enough that she, the manipulating little witch she was, was trying to remind Christine of her conversation earlier, which meant she must have spoken to Christine on the phone. It had had to have been the phone. Knowing that a phone call meant that they wouldn't have spoken much, as it wouldn't have been very long, it did mean that Carlotta might have let something slip, and she left it as a waiting time bomb until this moment, when she could set the trigger.

Nadir groaned, taking a sip of his drink. This was his fault, he should have seen this coming. He should have placed more security than this, he should have made the party more exclusive. But it was out of his hands, being that the party was under Tori Mayner's responsibility. But that was no excuse. He should have done something. He should have gone up by himself, like he had wanted to. He didn't want to be in an elevator with Christine, and Tori, and Erik. It was crowded, and a little shameful to watch their last few minutes of being backstage.

He turned his attention to the two of them, noticing that Christine was looking up at Erik, her back to him, and Erik's stance didn't suggest they were having a friendly conversation.

"They're cute together, aren't they?"

Nadir looked down and to his left. Stood beside him was Miss Sorrelli, dressed in a slender white dress, looking very beautiful as she held a glass of champagne. He smiled naturally as Miss Sorrelli smiled back at him. She had brought her long black hair around the sides of her head, pinning them to the back, and curled the hair inwards to create waves. She had pinned the rest of her wavy hair up, creating a 40's style hair style.

"Yes, they are." Nadir answer, turning to face her. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed shortly after you. Miss Mayner extended her invitation when she phoned earlier to confirm that you were coming." She answered, taking a sip.

"And you never said a word?" He asked.

"No, my priority was to attend to miss Christine's needs. I did leave you a message in your office, but you must not have gotten it."

"Were you aware that Carlotta would be attending?"

"No, I was surprised to see her. Christine made no mention of Carlotta's name all day." Sorrelli answered him precisely.

Sorrelli knew that Nadir had been a detective, of sorts, so she knew to answer him honestly and openly. Nadir respected that about her.

"You're worried about them." Sorrelli said, trying not to sound as though it was a question.

"I am." Nadir replied. "I'm concerned that Christine may be heading into the deep end and won't be able to rescue herself."

Sorrelli looked towards them. "But if Mr Destler is drowning, then this was always going to happen. They took it too far and too fast. They're like wild animals, there's no controlling them."

"You think Christine is wild and uncontrollable?" Nadir jested, pointing one finger towards her.

"I think she might have a temper, but it hasn't been tested as she can get on well with anyone." Sorrelli corrected. "Together, they're like a cyclone. They're going to have tremendous ups and downs in their lives now, because of each other. It only takes one person to tip the scales and one of them will fall. The other person will have to pick up the pieces, and that leads to the question. Who will fall and who will catch?"

Nadir turned to look at Christine. She seemed calm, but Erik must have been talking, as his head was bobbing about animatedly. "This is my fault, I should have prevented this."

"It's no-one's fault but Carlotta. She is the instigator. She needs to be handled quietly." Sorrelli whispered, leaning in to him as two people squeezed past her.

"Then I should take care of that." Nadir concluded, looking away from her.

"No, you should leave them to it. Let them work it all out. Support them when you need to, but don't go fighting their battles."

When Nadir had briefly spoken to Erik, trying to apologize, Erik had snapped at him, and Christine had come to his defense. Wasn't that fighting his battle? Or was there a message hiding underneath her words?

"Go see how they are. They need you. You need to help them when they're struggling in the deep end." Sorrelli said, pushing Nadir forward, and he found himself lost as he approached them.

Christine quietened, sensing his arrival, and waited until he was beside them and she turned to talk to him. "Hello Nadir."

"Hello, Christine." He said, and there was a distinct air of uncomfit.

"Hello Nadir." Erik joined him, sounding confused.

"Hey, Erik." Nadir said, trying to ease the tension. "Everything okay?"

"Christine and I were just talking." Erik said, looking down at Christine's hands.

Christine hid her hands behind her back, staring at Nadir, and Erik looked up at her, and then towards Nadir.

"Erik thinks I can't take care of myself." Christine said, frowning.

"Christine, please, it is not that. I know Carlotta will break us far worse than the media ever could. There are things in my life, things that I am not proud of. Things you will never forgive me for."

"Erik." Nadir warned. "Tread lightly."

Erik had looked up, but returned his gaze to Christine. "Please, can we not just leave this for later and just enjoy ourselves?"

"Erik, we need to trust each other, and I do trust you, but do you trust me?"

"Yes, Christine. I trust you not to hurt me."

"But do you trust me to look after us? When I leave, do you think I will forget you?" Christine asked. "Does it make you angry to think of me leaving?"

Erik sighed, and took her hands. "It does."

"Why are you so angry? We're at the beginning of a new relationship. You should be happy."

Erik released her hands, and Nadir watched in horror as Erik spoke quietly with such acidity. "How can I knowing that Carlotta pervades our every thought? I will never know what you know until you tell me everything. And you can't tell me everything until we are alone, so unless we leave now, we must be polite. Can we enjoy ourselves, for just a little longer? We can make believe everything is just fine!"

Christine frowned, hurt by Erik's words.

"Erik, calm yourself." Nadir pleaded, gesturing to Christine as she looked towards the other guests.

"No, Nadir, he's right." Christine said. "We _should_ just enjoy ourselves."

"I''m glad to hear it. Shall I get you something to eat?" Erik said triumphantly, gesturing over to a large table that held various plates filled with all sorts of delicious looking food.

"Yes, please. You pick." Christine answered slowly, and Erik promptly spread off, dashing through the crowd, leaving Christine and Nadir alone.

"How are you, _really_, Christine?" Nadir asked, concerned for her.

"I'm so confused. And hurt. And guilty." Christine said, sighing as she held her hands on her hips, glancing up at him.

"Guilty about not telling Erik about the phone call?" Nadir asked, making Christine look up in alarm.

"How did you know?"

"I am something of a detective, Christine. A very good one. I simply put the pieces together."

Her mouth was in a silent 'o'. "Yes, I did phone Carlotta. She left me a message telling me I was in danger." She said, looking away. "I was rather rude to her after she started acting strangely, and I refused to talk to her. She warned me about Erik's temper."

Nadir bristled in his place, and watched Christine closely. She looked up at him, expecting an answer. "Is she right? I heard from Meg that after Carlotta spent a night with him, she left the next day to 'recuperate'. Did Erik hurt her?"

Nadir sharply looked towards Erik, who was still piling some food on a small plate. "I don't think it's my place to say-"

"But it is if my safety is at risk. I know it's what the both of you have been trying to hide. You need to tell me what Erik is really like. Could he hurt me if I displeased him?"

Nadir brushed one hand through his hair, wondering how Miss Sorrelli would have handled this. It wasn't easy to talk about Erik, knowing he liked his privacy, but his long, tormented history was not his story to discuss. There was no easy way to explain this to Christine, and she was being so brave to ask about it, but now was not the place to discuss this.

"I promise you, we will all discuss this later, but please, amuse Erik. He adores you. He would never hurt you." Nadir said quickly, trying to reassure her as Erik returned with a plate with a slice of apple pie on top, with whipped cream, and a cupcake in his other hand, topped with cream and a small chocolate ball on top.

Christine gave him a look that suggested she understood, and wonderfully praised Erik as he brought the plate over. Erik proudly stood before her, pressing the plate in her hand, and produced from behind her ear a fork, which made her laugh as she took it from him, happily starting to eat with much gusto. Erik looked at Nadir, holding the cupcake from the bottom of the white wrapper using only his fingertips. Erik was excited it seemed. Maybe he was interested in how she would eat the cupcake. Christine continued to eat the pie, praising the chef openly between bites. She soon finished, and was about to say something to Erik, but he swiftly reached out and took her plate from her, returning his hand to pinch her fork out from between her fingers. He thrust the cupcake into her hands, and returned to standing upright, watching her. Nadir wanted to laugh, he was right then.

Christine looked bemused by Erik's actions and began to unwrap the white wrapper, watching Erik, and handed him the wrapper. He was holding the fork down on the plate with his thumb, and Christine's fingers brushed his as she dropped the wrapper. She brought her hand back and took the chocolate ball, popping it into her mouth, looking at Erik. She began to swirl it about in her mouth, but then bit into it, looking amazed as she tasted something good. She looked down at the cream, and quickly pressed her finger into the cream, tasting it, and she smiled, proceeding to hold the cupcake from around the bottom, and tore half of the cupcake off, placing the new slice of spongy cake on top of the cream, creating a sandwich. She began to eat it thus.

Nadir wondered if Erik saw the similarities between the white wrapper and his mask. Erik was only staring in disbelief as Christine stopped to lick her lips, where some crumbs had fallen. She had approached the cupcake so forwardly, tossed the wrapper aside, found something she liked, and turned it into an unconventional treat.

"I learnt to do it from one of my fans." She mumbled, through the crumbs. "They replied with a video and showed it to me when I went to a market and picked up a cupcake."

Erik laughed. "That's wonderful. I never thought to do that."

She shrugged, enjoying his merriment as she finished the last piece and began to wipe her hand free of crumbs.

Nadir smiled, deciding to try it himself later if he ever got the chance. No doubt Erik would stock his fridge with plenty of cupcakes now. "That's a wonderful treat, Christine, I'll-"

He stopped, noticing something. Erik and Christine noticed his pause and saw the same thing he saw coming. Richard and Andre, heading right their way, bumping into each other and into the other guests as they suddenly presented themselves before Erik, bowing. Erik appeared to be aghast, but Christine merely looked up with wide eyes in a pleasantly confused expression as she said,

"Oh, hello. Who are you?"

The tall man with short black hair and a small amount of stubble looked at Christine and smiled. "Forgive me, My name is Richard Firmin, maybe you've heard of me?" He said in a French accent.

"Yes, but only because Erik has discussed you two. That is, you are Andre Moncharmin?" She asked, addressing the shorter, more rotund fellow.

He had short gray hair, with a face and disposition like a lemon, when it suited him. He smiled falsely. "You would be correct, Miss Day."

Christine groaned. "It's 'Die-Ay'?"

"Ah, my mistake." Moncharmin apologized, holding his hands up in a sign of peace. "Daae. I see."

"How can we assist you?" Erik asked impolitely, turning to both men.

"Well you see, we wanted to find out if you agreed to sign the contract." Firmin said, lowering Montcharmin's hands as he addressed Erik, staring at him with a forced politeness.

"I have not," Erik said, refusing to listen to their commands as he answered. " I have no need to sell my music to you so you can display it on stage. I do not give my music away to idiots.

"But it would be for the good of the company, for the world, if they got to hear your magnificent music!" Andre chimed in, his eyes darting between Christine's dress and Erik's mask.

"Surely we can convince you to write us another play? One of plenty of beautiful dancers, and an even lovelier lead." Firmin carried on, taking Christine's hand to hold it before him. "Surely you would like to act in one of Erik's works?"

Christine's eyes lit up at the mention of acting for Erik, but she still looked disturbed from Firmin's forwardness. She looked over to Erik, who was not impressed at all by Firmin, his fingers twitching as he closely watched Firmin's hand clasping hers, and carefully said,

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I do not sing."

Both men gave a show of being in pain. "What a pity! What a shame!" They cried, and Christine pulled her hand out of the manager's grasp.

"But I like the idea of singing for Erik." She said, returning her soft gaze to Erik, smiling. "One day, I hope to give you that gift."

Erik quickly turned to the managers before they could react and told them in a commanding voice, "_Leave_."

Christine watched in amazement as they two managers blinked, and stared at each other, before turning to leave. Christine continued watching them walk away, still mumbling to themselves as Erik stood closer to Christine, shielding her view of everyone else at the party, which meant he had to stand pretty close to her, and brushed a few ringlets away from her face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up, forget what I said." Christine said sadly.

"You wish to sing for me? You would give me that pleasure?" Erik purred, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

Christine looked up. "One day, Erik. One day I might be strong enough to face my own past." She paused, thinking. "I guess we're _both_ not ready to face our pasts just yet."

"A wise decision." Nadir said confidently.

Nadir may not have been sure about Christine's motives earlier, but now he could see that she was just who she said she was. There were no hidden secrets, or malicious intent. There was only Christine, who was naive and sweet, but she could stand on her own two feet if she could only find the strength. He looked at Erik, who was happy as he took Christine into his arms, holding her so carefully as she rested her head against his chest. They stood in silence, comforting each other, and Nadir wondered if there were any more challenges ahead of them.

* * *

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	23. Chapter 23

**_Lenny Kravitz's 'American Woman'_**

_American woman, stay away from me  
American woman, mama let me be  
Don't come hanging around my door  
I don't want to see your face no more  
I got more important things to do  
Than spend my time growin' old with you  
Now woman, stay away  
American woman, listen what I say_

_American woman, get away from me_  
_American woman, mama let me be_  
_Don't come knocking around my door_  
_I don't want to see your shadow no more_  
_Colored lights can hypnotize_  
_Sparkle someone else's eyes_  
_Now woman, get away_  
_American woman, listen what I say_

* * *

Carlotta lounged in her room, staring grumpily at the large TV screen before her with her arms crossed and her legs folded up beneath her. The night hadn't quite gone the way she had expected, but it was an interesting challenge. She had made the girl cringe away from the masked freak, and she had brought Erik so close to ripping Carlotta's head off when she mentioned the mask. But then Tori had interrupted Carlotta's fun. Not before she could throw one last insult to Tori, for jumping on the bandwagon, and one to Erik, to make sure he knew what he was. _She_ knew what he was. She knew his past. She had joined Christine in the elevator, and reminded her who was in charge and who knew exactly what Christine needed to hear. Not that she cared about the whimpering child's safety. She was as crazy as the fawning miscreant, but she had a charm that Carlotta could not ignore. She must not have been young, and Carlotta wondered what it was that had crippled's the girl's confidence. True, she had spoken up at the last second, and Carlotta had been surprised, but ultimately uninterested. The simpering sweetheart was gullible.

Carlotta had a full plan that needed to be attended to, but she restrained herself as she decided to see the results of her appearance at the party. It had been easy to sneak in. Staying in the empty floor above had been boring, but she had just waited it out by playing with her phone and putting on more make-up. She had to look her best, after all. She had called the elevator and slipped into the party, waiting patiently for Erik and Christine to arrive while she hid in the bathroom. Reminding Erik of the torment he had unleashed on her was quite delicious. Christine had looked scared, which accomplished one goal, and landing Erik in hot water was glorious. Carlotta had never felt so alive. It was all coming together beautifully.

Carlotta's phone lit up, and she picked it up, receiving a very important text.

_They're holding hands. They look happy._

Carlotta frowned, surely that couldn't be correct? One of Carlotta's confidantes had been invited to the party, and had promised her to fill her in on any events that she missed, which was a useful tool in finding out their weaknesses. How could Christine still be so intimate with the _Freak_?

_What else?_ Carlotta typed furiously.

_Everyone seems to like her, and by extension, him. _Piangi replied. _Her friendliness outweighs his scare factor._

Carlotta wanted to throw her phone across the room, but instead began to think, pressing her fingers to her beautifully carved lips. Maybe the girl just needed a push? A little extra incentive to cure her of her illness of loving the masked monster. It _was_ an illness, for who could ever learn to love such a disgusting, perverted old man like Erik Destler?

_They're alone. They're talking. She doesn't look happy. His manager has stepped in._ Piangi texted again.

This was interesting at least. Maybe Carlotta's words had sunk into the girl's brain and she was now beginning to take it seriously. Carlotta placed her phone down, smiling darkly to herself as she pulled her ankles closer to her, watching as her phone lits up with more texts.

_He has gotten her food, which she's eating._

Disgusting slave, Carlotta thought irrtiably.

_Moncharmin and Firmin are joining them._

Carlotta sat up in alarm. What were _they_ doing? Why would Andre and Richard want to talk to them? Was it something to do with Erik's work? Carlotta felt herself seething with rage as she thought about the various times she had tried to gain an audience with the two of them, all to her utter failure. They were idiots, but useful ones. They had contacts that would no doubt only add to Carlotta's illustrious history if she managed to wrap them around her finger. Her future would be secured with their names attached to her. But that wasn't true in Carlotta's opinion. It would only be secure when she had her revenge.

Carlotta scoured her mind of any recent activity of the two fools from France. Weren't they trying to put on a show? If she remembered Firmin's role correctly, he would be in search of the beautiful actors and actresses, entirely in charge of the creative outlet for the company, while Andre was in the charge of the financial side of their business. It made sense for Andre to be at the party, no doubt he was trying to convince Erik to create some music for them, he had probably even brought some forms along for him to sign, but why was Firmin there?

It would have been an interesting sight for them, to watch Erik sign their papers. Erik was the man to go to if you wanted the most inspiring music for your production. It didn't make much sense to Carlotta. His music, while certainly beautiful, did not hide the truth about Erik. It was only because he was a recluse that people took any interest in him at all. That, and the mask. Carlotta was looking forward to destroying Erik and everything he had.

_Firmin has taken her hand and is asking her something. _Piangi texted.

_What_?! Carlotta screeched in her head. What was Firmin asking the girl? Was... He asking her to be in his next production? How _cruel_! How could this nobody get asked after a few minutes introduction, and Carlotta had to pull in most of her resources in order just to be seated near them in their favourite restaurant? What a horrible twist of fate! Carlotta was the one who deserved the attention, not a lousy British copycat!

Carlotta took a few deep breaths. There was no need to lose her cool over this. Surely this could work in her favor? There must have been some way for Carlotta to use this information?

_Whatever it was, she declined._ Piangi texted again.

Carlotta sighed in relief, despite feeling that this new development wasn't over. Carlotta had done research on Christine throughout the day, watching some of her videos, including 'Gustave', where the girl was singing a song dedicated to her father. Carlotta had ignored the twinge of guilt when she thought of her own father, and found herself replaying the song, over and over. Carlotta could hear the talent, but the girl was too stupid to fully train her voice and let it waste away. The sadness that girl portrayed was real, so was that the reason why she had no confidence? Did her father's death really leave her a whimpering doll? No wonder the girl had hooked up with Erik, with the right training, Christine could easily take over Carlotta. With the right push in the right direction, Christine would be able to take Carlotta's dream from her.

How curious. It had been Erik who had started the war by taking her dream, but now it looked as though Christine would prolong it by keeping her dream from her.

Carlotta hummed as she smiled to herself. It was obvious then what must be done. Carlotta would just have to make sure that Christine never chose to sing again. That would ensure Carlotta's path to victory was clear when she was finished destroying the masked man. Adding Christine into the games had been an interesting game changer, and Carlotta was going to make sure that Christine got a good view of the events.

* * *

Raoul drummed his fingers along the countertop as he continued to read the newspaper, his eyes scanning the article about Hollywood's hottest new couple, which just so happened to be his best friend Christine, and a strange masked man, who looked crazy in Raoul's opinion, but in the hastily shot photos adorning the tabloids, Christine looked happy, the happiest she had seen her in a while. Erik Destler, was the man's name. Raoul didn't recognize the name, but apparently, he was a masked hermit, who wrote tremendous amounts of haunting melodies, designed some of the most recognizable buildings in the world, and had his hands in a lot of jars, according to a short, uncompleted biography written on the man a few pages back.

Raoul didn't like the situation one bit. They had less than a page on the man, only listing all of his accomplishments, but no real history of Erik Destler, but there had been at least two pages on Christine, talking about her father, and the video she had made for him, as well as talking about her other videos, her conduct at the awards ceremony, as well as witness statements who spoke of her exactly the way he remembered Christine to be. Sweet, supportive and polite. So why was there next to nothing on the man that Christine had suddenly started _dating?_

It was one of many reasons why Raoul had fallen in love with Christine. It was her good natured soul, and her gentle disposition had enchanted Raoul for a number of years. Ever since he had saved her scarf. Before her father died, Christine and he had, for a few weeks, dated each other. Raoul had been overjoyed, holding her whenever he had the chance, kissing her whenever it pleased her, but he had sensed that Christine was not in the same place as him. She had enjoyed holding hands with him, but their relationship hadn't much changed. She still animatedly chatted with him when she was cleaning the cafe as he watched her, he still made her tea whenever she looked tired, and they still hung out after work along the Thames. The only thing that had changed was the amount of hand holding. The kisses were nice, but Christine didn't seem to feel the same electricity that Raoul did. After a while, things had calmed down, and Christine didn't ask to hold hands as much, or kiss him by surprise. Raoul knew she was pulling away without trying to hurt him, and he had let her off, telling her it was okay if she wanted to focus on looking after her dad. She had nodded, accepting the lie almost as easily as Raoul had told it.

Then her father had died, and Raoul had tried to be there for her, but she was upset and refused to see anyone. He had gone around to their flat, but she had shut the door in his face, hurting him much more than he thought it would have done. He forgave her though, and tried to get her to talk back to him through his emails, but she never answered. His family had thought him mad, but Raoul was determined to help Christine through her grief. After a while though, she had clicked on one of his links, which led to some funny video that Raoul couldn't remember now, and she had returned from the dead, emerging from her flat like a zombie as she slowly began to pull her life back together. Raoul had tried to be there for her then, too, but apart from the light hug and a brief kiss she had given him, thanking him, she had asked that he just let her get on readjusting to her new life without her father. He told Christine that he would always be there for her, and she had smiled weakly, squeezing his hand.

"Alright mate, I'll have a bacon butty and a cuppa tea." Said a voice from across the counter.

Raoul looked up at one of the local construction workers, drawn out of his memory.

"That'll be two quid, Danny." Raoul told him, taking the two pound coins and tapped into the register, dropping the coins in, before he quickly put the order together, giving a nod to the worker as he pointed on the milk and sugar further down the counter, and then turned back to the newspaper, his eyes drawn to Christine's blushing face. It had been taken only moments before Christine had met Erik Destler. She looked shy, but interested in the cameras, as Raoul knew she would have been. Before she had left, Christine had mentioned that she was interested in getting a professional camera, instead of the cheap little digital camera she was using to record her videos. No doubt she would have been curious to see what kind of cameras the paparazzi would be using.

"Cheers, mate." Danny said, before noticing the newspaper. "Oh yeah, you been keeping up with it?"

"Yeah." Raoul replied irritably.

"I bet you guys can't believe it!" Danny said with a huge grin on his face. "Your mate, in the newspapers, with a celebrity!"

"Yeah, alright, Danny, leave off it." Raoul said, closing the newspaper as he tried to ignore the chipper worker in his high visibility jacket.

"C'mon, you're not upset are ya? Right, he can't be that much of a muppet if she looks like she's having fun." Danny said, gesturing to the photo on the front page, of Erik Destler's arm around Christine's midriff. She definitely _did_ look like she was having fun. "Alright, he looks a bit creepy, but Christine en't a slapper, she's a proper good girl. So it must be serious."

"She doesn't know anything about him, and they're already _dating._" Raoul complained. "I should call her."

Danny laughed, shaking some sugar into his tea. "Heh, good luck with that there." He looked around. "You on your tod, Billy no-mates?"

Raoul nodded. "Nah. Eddie went home, left me to look after the place while Samantha cleans up round back."

"I'da thought there'd be reporters here, or more punters." Danny said, stirring his tea as he looked around.

Raoul shrugged. "We've seen the odd one, but no-one's come to do an interview. Not that we'd give them one."

"What about for 20 grand?" Danny joked, wiping his chin with his wrist after spreading some ketchup on his bacon barm and taking a huge bite.

"Nah, mate. Wouldn't do that to Christine, she'd be upset. It says here that they want their privacy." Raoul answered, frowning.

"Grin and bear it then. There's nowt you can do." Danny said, before raising his barm up in the air, turning to leave. "See ya tomorrow, alright mate?"

"Yeah, okay, Danny." Raoul said, giving him a lazy wave as Danny left, his eyes drawn back to Christine's figure on the front page.

_Maybe I should call her. Just to see if she's doing okay? She wouldn't mind, and if it manages to remind her of home, maybe she'll see how strange all of this is._ Raoul thought, reaching into his pocket, looking out of the windows as he noticed the rain beginning to pour, and quickly called Christine's number. It went straight to voicemail.

"Er, hi Christine, it's Raoul. I know you've only been gone a few days, but I wanted to see how you were doing. Everyone's been seeing you in the newspaper, but I guess you must already know that, right? Eddie's overjoyed, and the girls are freaking out that you get to meet celebrities, though Samantha can't stop making fun of the way you fell on that guy. Um, I mean, your boyfriend," Raoul paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "So, now that you two are ... dating, I guess you must be with him now. Which is why I'm leaving a message rather than just talking with you."

Raoul pushed the newspaper around the countertop with a straw scrunching his face up in embarrassment. "We miss you. Bright Idea hasn't been the same since you left, but you're coming back, aren't you? Maybe we should have a party to celebrate your coming back?"

Another awkward pause. Raoul didn't want to think about having to celebrate Christine's new relationship, but if it made her happy, then he would do it.

"Listen, Christine, I know that we briefly dated, and it didn't work out, but I feel like I'm responsible for you. I should have gone with you. I just hope that Erik Destler is treating you like you deserve to be treated. I don't want to see you get hurt because of what some rich, snobby jerk does, okay? Just be careful, please?"

Raoul hung up the phone, and buried the bottom of his wrists into his eye sockets, groaning to himself as Samantha appeared from out of the kitchen, handing him the 'closed' sign. Raoul wished he could have spoken to Christine in person. Leaving her messages seemed like a childish thing to do, and he didn't want Christine to think of him as a jealous ex boyfriend. And there was no mentioning what this masked celebrity could do.

"Don't worry Raoul, she'll be back on Sunday night." Samanatha said, rolling her eyes as she began to pick up the chairs and place them on the tables as Raoul walked over to the front door, putting the sign up in a huff. "That's if Mr 'tall, dark and mysterious' doesn't follow her home."

Raoul groaned again, dropping his head. He hadn't even thought of that.

* * *

**I hope you guys are intrigued by Raoul's perspective! Believe me, his voicemail message will make an impact on the development of Erik and Christine's relationship!**

**Please do leave a review, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me!**


	24. Chapter 24

**_Lucy Spraggan's 'Join The Club'_**

_Are you born a king or a joker or the jack of all trades?  
Are you the queen of someone's heart what is the value of your face?  
Are you here to dig for diamonds well bring along your spade  
It seems that life is just a gamble so just enjoy the game_

_When the dice you keep on rolling takes away what is your life_  
_Don't give up just try your luck look the snake right in the eyes_  
_Raise the stake and show some face this round has just begun_  
_If you think outside the box there's no such thing as square one_

_Are you born a king or a joker or the jack of all trades?_  
_Are you the queen of someone's heart what is the value of your face?_  
_Are you here to dig for diamonds well bring along your spade_  
_It seems that life is just a gamble so just enjoy the game_

_And if there's someone standing on your left hand side grab 'em_  
_Tell them everything will be alright, tell 'em_  
_And if there's someone on your right hand side grab 'em_  
_Tell them everything will be alright_  
_I doesn't matter on which sleeve you wear your heart whatever way you wear your crown_  
_Tomorrow is another day to turn it all around_  
_I will stop when I'm ready I'll shown everyone my cards_

_But for now I'll keep on playing even when the game gets hard_

* * *

Christine was grateful that Nadir had come over, but felt embarrassed for getting frustrated with Erik. Erik must have thought of her as childish, but her argument had been solid. He was treating her like a glass figurine, like a trophy, and it was starting to discourage her. Erik had begun to hint at his past, and mentioned it was something that she would never forgive him for, which made her hesitate, forcing her to remember Carlotta's and Meg's words. She asked him if he trusted her. He had answered her that he trusted she would never hurt him, which made Christine want to go take a stiff shot of whiskey because she was fairly certain by now that Erik _had_ hurt Carlotta, which would explain why Carlotta was so intent on ruining Erik, and Christine was concerned that Erik, if angered enough, would hurt her.

Everything told her to run. But she couldn't. It was like being sucked into a black hole, she had reached the point of no return. There was no leaving him now, even if she wanted to, which she didn't. Being around Erik was like being a new person, and Christine knew there was more to Erik than all of the stories. She had asked why he wasn't happy, and he spoke to her with disgust as he brought up Carlotta's name once more, and the fact that they could not discuss her arrival in private, like all three of them knew they should. Nadir had tried to calm Erik, but Christine had interrupted, encouraging Erik's suggestion of just enjoying the party. There no need to wind up Erik any more than was needed. Erik joyously offered to get her some food, which she egged on, feeling sad as she watched him leave her side. She was so confused, but she knew that she held very tender feelings for Erik that would not be so easily torn by a stranger, but may be ripped to pieces by the man who was so close to holding her heart.

After chatting with Nadir and eating the food Erik had brought over, much to his delight, Christine didn't feel any better about Erik's 'rumored' temper, but finally the comedic relief came strolling in, and Christine was delighted to finally meet Mr Richard Firmin and Mr Andre Moncharmin. They lived up to their comedic appearance, as Andre got her name wrong, and Firmin was so bold as to take her hand. They did speak of singing in one of Erik's shows, and Christine's heart had fluttered when she thought of singing along to some of Erik's music. She had downloaded his latest album the night before as she lay in bed, and had listened to it in agonizing entrallment. It had been incredible, her whole body rising and falling with each crashing crescendo, clutching Erik's pillow up against her body as she remembered his hands for what seemed like the millionth time, wandering over her body, through her hair, and she had squeezed her eyes shut, a grin plastered on her face as she listened to each song. Each song was incredible, significant in their own way, making her heart race to unbearable speeds, but there was a definite signature of his music that screamed of him. It was the dark undertone, covered by the light, angelic violins. She had looked up at Erik and seen that he had not been pleased by Firmin and Andre's mentioning of her singing.

Christine looked for the guilty feeling she would usually have when thinking of singing, and found there was none. She remembered her father's last words to her, and while she did mourn his loss, she did not feel so remorseful about wanting to sing. She looked up at Erik, and felt something course through her blood, making her stand straight, and look directly into Erik's eyes. It was him. He was removing the pebbles already for her. She curiously tried to say the words that meant she would like to sing for him one day, and hoped that her promise pleased him. It did, apparently, as Erik turned to the managers and ordered them to leave in a voice she had never heard before. It was similar to the way he had spoken her name, but it was commanding, and Christine almost felt herself being pulled into Erik's voice until he stepped directly before her, waking her up. She suddenly felt very silly, it was absurd to talk of such things. But Erik's voice had slightly affected her as she said she would never sing again, but it made Erik happy to hear of her singing. She wanted to see more of this happy Erik. It was a pleasant sight, and he was at his very best when he was happy. He asked seriously if she would sing for him one day, while stroking her cheek with his thumb. She had replied she would, but she came to the conclusion that for now, their pasts didn't need to be reviewed just yet.

Everyone had been watching them, it seemed, though they were kind enough to be discreet. They just pretended to be on their phones. They put them away though when Christine suggested that they get to know everyone, loud enough for them to hear. Erik was disappointed, but he gave him, and brightened once he saw her reaction. They spoke to some more of the various celebrities and Christine did her best to show Erik in a new light, determined to see if she could make him any happier. It was like a game. Erik happily joined in with conversations, which meant he wasn't squeezing her hand every time someone spoke to them, and he _sometimes_ responded to people's questions, which made some of the people very annoyed and confused, but it only made Christine suck on her lips to stop herself from laughing.

Erik kept looking over to the open balcony, and Christine knew exactly what he wanted. Once the conversation had drifted away from her, she squeezed his hand, and when he looked at her, she nodded over to it, smiling as she squeezed his hand again. He nodded eagerly, and they both drifted over to the balcony. Christine stepped out first as a warm wind blew over them, and Christine took a deep breath as she stared out across New York City. It was beautiful, the whole city looked as though it had been draped with fairy lights. Erik slid the balcony door shut behind them, so they could speak in peace, but Christine could still hear the music. He took her hands, and stared down at her, sighing happily.

"I am glad to be away from everyone." Erik said, as Christine stood before him.

"Me too. It's so weird meeting these people. They've been on TV and I haven't, it's like two worlds colliding." She said.

"Are you nervous?"

"Yes, but I'm glad you're here with me. I'm having the time of my life. I feel like I'm in a dream." Christine said softly, leaning in close as she whispered it to his chest. "Nothing can bring me down."

Erik clutched her hands desperately, and brought them to his mask. "Christine, I'm so happy. You are a good girl for standing beside me."

Christine laughed. "Good girl? Is that how you see me?" She cried with laughter, scrunching up her nose as she smiled, leaning her body away. "I can be mean."

Erik moaned and pulled her back, grabbing her elbows. "Yes, you can be naughty and not let me hold you."

Christine stuck out her tongue as she held both his arms just below his shoulders, her elbows resting over his as the mood suddenly changed and Erik's hands found themselves smoothing out the back of her dress from beneath her shoulder blades and down her spine in one smooth sweep, and held her in the small of her back. They stood in silence, listening to the new song that had started. It was a soft, sweet tone, easy to dance to, Christine realized as she adjusted her stance and began to slowly rock him. Erik didn't move at first, simply watching her as his fingers dug into her, which made her wince, but he stopped, and continued to watch as Christine moved her arm from inside his embrace, so she could hold him properly, and tried to rock him again, looking up at him.

She sighed, stopping, and looked up at him. "Why aren't you doing anything?"

"You want me to dance?"

"Yes."

"I have never danced before." He replied, cautiously.

"Then what's to stop you from dancing now? You're enjoying it, aren't you?"

"I do not feel comfortable dancing in a public place."

"So, you mean if we were in private, we would be dancing right now?" Christine asked.

"Yes."

Christine nodded once, pursing her lips. "Am I going straight to my hotel after the party?"

Erik shook his head. "N-No. If... If it pleases you... I... I haven't seen you all day. I was hoping that if you weren't tired, you would like to come around to my apartment. I want to show you my latest album. I want to know what you think of it."

Christine blushed, remembering the rapture she had been in the night before, squeezing her pillow so tight to her ribs she wasn't sure if she could breath. "I _loved_ it." She said breathlessly.

Erik watched her. "You've listened to it? You listened to my music?"

"Yes, the one you won the award for, '_Under the Stage_'." Christine said tenderly.

"What did you think? Tell me _everything_." Erik asked impatiently, which made Christine grin broadly.

"I love every song. It was _beautiful_, I couldn't stop listening to it in bed last night. I have been in paradise just listening to it. I would love to see you play it sometime."

Erik made a small choking sound and took her hands again. "Oh Christine, please, would you join me back at my apartment? I shall play for you and I shall make you so happy, I swear it."

"Yes, Erik!" Christine laughed, and adjusted her grips on Erik's fingers. "But we'll have to sneak out!"

Erik stood up straight, observing the other guests. "I don't see Nadir, that is good. We shall have to be quick. Come, my dear, follow me."

Erik held her hand as he guided her back into the apartment, across the room, and left her beside the dining table as he went to call the elevator. Christine grabbed a thin glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a quick sip as Nadir appeared beside her.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, and it made Christine shiver to wonder where he had come from.

"Yes, Nadir, thank you." She said, wiping her lips delicately, fighting the urge to groan.

"Anything the matter?" He inquired further, his eyes drifting over to an impatient Erik, who was repeatedly attacking the call button.

"Oh, no. Everything's fine, honestly. We're leaving now, and Erik doesn't want to draw attention, but he's doing a terrible job." Christine laughed, before taking another sip.

"Yes, and he's being a terrible guest. You should goodbye to your host, Christine."

Christine frowned, placing her glass down. "But Erik will only be a second..."

"Not if he breaks the elevator." Nadir said, guiding Christine away as Erik moaned frustratedly at the elevator, making some of the nearby guests jump.

Christine and Nadir approached Tori, who was looking through her phone for some more music to play, as Christine played the perfectly oblivious guest. Tori had one hand on her hip which held a cigarette that she'd occasionally bring up to her lips, and a glass of red wine in the same hand that held her phone, and she scrolled through her music clumsily.

"Oh, hello sweetheart." Tori said, looking up. "Everything okay? Erik looks a bit annoyed."

"Oh, erm, yes. We're just leaving." Christine said, bashfully. She was quite aware of what the situation looked like now.

This was only confirmed when Tori looked up slowly, grinning the entire time until her eyes locked on Christine's. "Ah. That explains it."

"No, it's not like that!" Christine said, a little flustered as she held up her hand defensively. "It's not what you think."

Tori laughed, slapping Christine on the arm with the cigarette in her hand, making some ash break off and drift onto Christine's dress. "Oops, sorry about that. Listen, don't worry about it. You two want a bit a private time, and that's understandable, no one is judging. Everyone loves you, by the way. And I think you're a smashing girl with nothing to worry about. Go have fun."

Tori nearly spilled a bit of her drink, and she laughed again, before taking a drag on her cigarette. She stepped forward and hugged Christine by wrapping her arm around her neck. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Christine laughed, embarrassed. "Er, sure Tori. Thanks for the party, it was wonderful, Erik and I really enjoyed ourselves."

"Ha! I doubt Erik had any fun." Tori said, turning back to her phone.

Christine pulled away and left Tori to choose some music, and she walked back with Nadir with an abashed cringe on her face. "Oh god, that was awkward. For both of us if she _remembers_ this."

"Yes, it was, but at least you look responsible and mature now, which will leave a lasting impression." Nadir said as they approached Erik, who had scared off some of the other guests with his impatient toe tapping.

"You're _not_ coming, Nadir." Erik said directly as Christine clung to his side.

"Can I trust you to be a gentleman?" Nadir asked.

"We are retreating back to my apartment so that I may entertain Christine privately. You needn't be concerned about her welfare, I will look after her." Erik said, holding his arm around her back as they entered the elevator in a hurry.

Nadir looked to Christine. "Will you be okay?"

Christine nodded, looking over her shoulder. "Yes, I will. Don't worry about me."

Nadir nodded, relieved as he said, "Very well, if you wish it. I shall call upon you in the afternoon, I think, Erik."

Erik nodded, realizing the impact of his words. "Thank you. I shall see you then."

"Goodnight, Christine." Nadir said as the doors began to close.

"Goodnight Nadir, see you soon." Christine said as the doors to the elevator closed, leaving Christine and Erik in privacy. They rode the elevator silently, and Christine reached out to take Erik's hand.

"Did you have fun?" She asked, squeezing his gloved hand hard.

"I don't think 'fun' describes it." Erik replied. "It was a new experience though, with you by my side."

Christine tilted her head. "Is that good?"

Erik chuckled. "Yes, my dear." They calmly walked hand in hand out of the building, and Christine glanced up at the security guard as Erik opened the door.

Erik watched the security guard as he held the door open, as Christine released his hand and walked out the door, smiling sadly at the security guard. He shamefully avoided Erik's glare and wished Christine a good night, who replied of course with a thank you, and she hoped that Erik would let his annoyance slide. He didn't however, and Christine turned to find Erik standing quite close to the man. He must have been whispering something, because the security guard looked terrified.

"_Erik_." Christine moaned lightly, walking back to take his hand. He had frozen at Christine's touch, but slowly came back to himself as he relaxed into her, and turned to face her.

"It's alright, I was just reminding him of what his job entails." Erik said with a severe tone, giving one final glance to the poor man.

Christine shook her head, and squeezed Erik's hand. "C'mon, let's go." She said softly, making Erik look up at her, his head craning around to peek at her.

"Yes, Christine." He said obediently, and followed Christine's lead as though he was on a leash.

Christine was beginning to get tired, but she didn't want Erik to suggest that she should go home instead. She wanted to see Erik's beautiful apartment again, and she wanted to watch him play his music. She knew he would be graceful, and eloquent. She yawned, wondering whether Erik played the violins on his album himself . Her father had played the violin, back when he had been strong enough to draw his bow across his one of a kind violin. It was still sitting in her apartment, where it would never be played again, to her dismay.

"Are you tired, Christine?" He asked after they got into the limousine.

"Yes, but I don't want to go home." Christine murmured. "I want to stay with you."

"Christine," Erik sighed softly, pulling her up against him so she fell against his chest. He began to talk to her in a way that suggested that she was an insolent child and he the overbearing parent. "If you require sleep, I do not wish to keep you up."

"No, Erik, please! Don't send me home." Christine protested, as Erik's arms gathered her up closer to him.

He leaned into her hair. "I won't. But you must tell me when you wish to leave."

"Thank you." Christine sighed, closing her eyes as she rested her hand on his chest, her face turned towards his window as they began to pass through the loud, bright streets of New York. Erik's arms were around her midriff, and Christine felt comfortable in his embrace, and was pretty sure that Erik was comfortable too.

Christine had begun begun to doze off when Erik said, "Your phone is buzzing."

Christine slowly looked up, staring down at her purse in her lap. It was vibrating against her, alerting her that she had a message. She opened her purse and removed her phone, with Erik watching with curiosity as she looked at the screen. Their photo together showed up on her phone, as she had set it to be her background image after they had left The Winchester, and she would have admired them together, but a name was blinking on the screen to tell her that a voicemail message had been left.

_Raoul._

Christine knew that Erik saw it, and said as brightly as she could, "I'll listen to it later, I'm sure it's not an emergency."

Erik let out a breath that he had been holding, hiding it from her, and adjusted his grip around her waist. "A friend?" He asked, looking out of the window.

"Yes." Christine began as she replaced the phone back into her purse. "He's my best friend back home. I bet you he's just checking up on me. I knew he would at some point. He's so thoughtful that way."

Christine looked up, but Erik's mask was preventing her from being able to see how he was interpreting her words. Different coloured passing lights, made less clear from the tinted windows, played across the mask as Erik continued to stare out of the window in silence. He was completely still, and Christine nestled herself deeper into him, trying to stir him. He still made no movement.

"Erik, are you upset?" She asked.

"No, Christine. I am not. I know you have a life away from me, but it appears as though no-one wants us to get any peace tonight." Erik replied slowly, turning to look at her. "There are forces that threaten to tear you away from me, and I know I can not ask you to leave your life, but I wish our path wasn't so unclear."

Christine didn't know how to respond. She was glad that he understood she was her own person, with her own life and her own priorities, but she didn't want him to think that he wasn't a part of those responsibilities. "Erik, everyone's path is unclear. No-one really knows what will happen, to any of us. But I want you to know this, without a doubt in your mind. We are on the same path, walking side by side. No matter where I am, I am with you. Always."

Christine buried her face against his chest again. "So don't worry. We'll be okay."

"I believe you, Christine." Erik said, resting his hand over Christine's. "I believe that we will be okay."

* * *

**Guys, I really, _really _miss your reviews. I can't believe you've all stopped! ****Please leave a review, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, do leave a review!**


	25. Chapter 25

**_John Mayer's _****__****"I Don't Trust Myself (With Loving You)"**

_No I'm not the man I used to be lately  
See you met me at an interesting time  
If my past is any sign of your future  
You should be warned before I let you inside_

_Hold on to whatever you find baby_  
_Hold on to whatever will get you through_  
_Hold on to whatever you find baby_  
_I don't trust myself with loving you_

_I will beg my way into your garden_  
_I will break my way out when it rains_  
_Just to get back to the place where I started_  
_So I can want you back all over again_

_Hold on to whatever you find baby_  
_Hold on to whatever will get you through_  
_Hold on to whatever you find baby_  
_I don't trust myself with loving you_

* * *

From the moment Christine said the word 'gift', and he was fairly certain that was what she said about her singing, Erik had become her slave. He longed to hear Christine's voice, it would be a gift _indeed_! The greatest, beside others he could think of that weren't fit to mention. Was it really a promise? Was it really a gift for _him_? How he would treasure it. If he taught her, she would grow to insurmountable heights! Erik knew he _had_ to convince her to sing.

Erik had only been able to mutter out in his most commanding tone to the managers that they should leave, and they both left promptly, stumbling through the crowd. He had turned to Christine, and had begun to _refuse_ him his gift! He wanted to hear it from her lips whether she would or not. He was already going through his music, debating which songs seemed most like her. But she said then, that one day,_ one day_, she would sing for him. Erik was filled with joy once more. He knew she would not let him down. She came to the conclusion that both of their pasts needn't be discussed just yet, and Erik was relieved. He recalled once more the food he had brought her, his offering to the goddess that she was, and he had been most keen to watch her eat the cupcake. The apple pie had been a formality. He wanted to see how she would react to the chocolate ball, and while that had been a pleasure, the part where she began to eat the cupcake itself had been the most interesting part of the evening. She tore the cupcake in half, having been delighted with the cream (he would have to find out what was in the cream so he could feed it her always), and turned it into a sandwich! The memory of her eating the cupcake made Erik want to give her more food if it was going to be half as amusing as that.

Nadir had agreed, joining in at last, and they soon drifted back into the crowd, much to Erik's displeasure. He wanted to be alone with Christine and talk more about her singing, he was curious about if she still listened to the same songs that she would have sung before her father passed away, and what they were. But he respected Christine's enthusiasm to meet more of the celebrities. She was curious, and he couldn't blame her. He just wasn't sure why she wasn't as curious to see beneath his mask. Surely she must have been imagining all sorts of devilish contortions. He tried not to think about it as he listened in to more praise from Christine. She was going on about how he'd been so kind, so generous, so attentive, so understanding, and everyone was listening to her every word. They looked up at him with smiles, and Erik stood in shock, pulling a horrified face as he tried his absolute hardest not to squeeze his angel's hand. It was terrifying, all of those eyes upon him. They were smiling, and it was only because Christine had spun a tale of how magnificent he was. He wasn't, he wanted to cry, it was she who was magnificent. They would all know it soon, he swore it on his life. He hadn't paid attention most of the time. He decided which questions directed towards him he would answer, much to Christine's enjoyment as she tried not to laugh. It delighted Erik to see her so happy. It was like a game.

He had found himself, when not answering questions, looking out onto what looked like a balcony. It would be private there, and Christine could cool herself down, as she was still probably unaccustomed to the heat. Christine must have caught him as he fantasized about how she would look against the New York background. She nodded to the balcony, squeezing his hand and he nodded as he realized his fantasy had come true. She was miraculous, she could read his every thought! He eagerly guided her across the room, her eyes lowered to the ground, and he opened the balcony door for her. Christine passed through, taking a deep breath as her eyes finally lifted and took in the sight of New York. The fragrance that followed after her like a veil sent his head spinning. Honey and mango. She took a few steps forward, the wind rippling through her hair, and turned to Erik with a large smile.

Erik took her hands, noticing how his his large, thick gloves looked, encompassing her fragile white fingers, and sighed. They had spoken about the party briefly, he mentioned he was enjoying their privacy now, and she agreed, mentioning how weird it was to meet celebrities. Erik wanted to shrug. He was used to it. It wasn't as if he ever saw them. She told him how she felt she was in a dream, and proceeded to talk to his chest. Erik was pleased that Christine was so happy. He didn't want her to ever be scared, or worried, or alone. He began to tease her when she leaned away from him, telling him that she could be 'mean', and she had looked thrilled beyond words as she stuck out her tongue. Erik stared at it, not long enough before Christine took it from his sight and began to hold him by his shoulders. Erik felt the wind change as Christine stood close to him. Erik watched in mute alarm as his hands, of their own accord, began to smooth out her dress, starting from the top of her spine down until he feared he could not go any more. Her body had been so warm, and supple. Erik watched as Christine's head slowly turned towards the source of the music, and Erik watched her, his eyes scrunched in confusion as he tried to figure out the woman who let him hold her. _His Girlfriend_. She was his. She belonged to him. Why had he given given the real gift that was Christine?

He found himself being shaken about, and said nothing as he watched in more confusion. She stepped forward, holding him closer. He had been painfully aware of how close their stomachs were, and wanted to run. He couldn't, and wouldn't, and this treat, as much of a horror it was to do so with everyone watching, was bliss. Christine winced, looking down to her hips, where his fingers were digging into her sides. He wanted to pull away in disgust, but the pleasure of holding her overcame that thinking so he released his forceful grip and simply held her again. She tried to move him about, and it wasn't until she sighed that he realized she was upset about something. She asked him why he wasn't dancing with her, and Erik wanted to slap himself in the forehead. Dancing, of course. Couples did that sort of thing. It should have been obvious. He told her he had never danced before, but she had jumped straight into asking him if he enjoyed it. He had been enjoying what they were doing and Erik didn't understand why they had to stop. He tried not to look into the apartment as he admitted that he didn't want to dance with her in public. It was something for them. It was their present to each other. She asked if they would dance if they were alone and Erik agreed. But then she had asked if she had to go back to her hotel after the party, to which Erik was vehemently against. He tried to invite her around, but he had sounded like an idiot and continued talking, mentioning his music, which he wished to show her.

Her eyes had glazed over before they lowered to the ground, a light blush adorning her face as she looked at her clasped hands and breathlessly said that she _loved_ it. God only knew what she was thinking, and Erik took the time to imagine her listening to each song. He had _hoped_ she would love it, but that reaction had been glorious. He only wished he could have seen her when she listened to it. Christine continued, her eyes lighting up as she spoke such beautiful words to him, giving him eternal bliss as she turned her praise onto his music, so that only he could hear. Erik had been embarrassed by the small sound he made as he took her hands, grateful that his gloves weren't shaking. He hoped his voice didn't crack as he pleaded her to join him at his apartment. He couldn't bear it anymore, he needed to play for her. She had agreed, grinning as Erik jumped at the chance to sneak out of the apartment and be with his angelic Christine.

He had left her beside a table, and she helped herself to a final drink as Erik went over to the elevator to call it. It was taking forever. It was like an asthmatic slug carrying groceries. He looked towards Christine and saw that Nadir had joined her. He began to press the down button over and over, willing it to come. Christine began walking away with Nadir and Erik growled with frustration. Why did the Daroga have to _do this_ to him _now_? He waited, watching as Christine and Nadir approached Tori, on the other side of the room. Erik wasn't happy. Did Christine _want_ to say goodbye to Tori? Was she hoping to spend more time with Tori, and the other celebrities? That meant time away from _him_!

She wasn't going to, simple as that. She was _his_ girlfriend. She _belonged_ to him. He had every right to take her. But Erik cringed nonetheless. He couldn't _do_ that. Christine was a person. She was not a trophy. He would have to let her decide. She soon returned, with Nadir hot on her heels, and Erik gritted his teeth, telling Nadir that he was not allowed to come. He agreed, quite easily, and suggested that he would visit around the afternoon. Erik hoped that Nadir was not suggesting she would be spending the night! If Erik was going to let Christine be her own person then she would have to be her own person in her own room. He didn't trust himself with her unguarded sleeping body. She would be vulnerable to him, and he didn't trust the beast inside enough to protect her. She would leave once she tired herself out, and he could guiltlessly provide her with a car.

He thought about Christine as they rode the car down. What was Christine expecting? Was she testing him? Erik began to hope she was, he wasn't sure if he could curb his temper, or his control, over a lust filled Christine. It was incomprehensible. They had gotten out of the elevator, approaching the security guard, and Christine had passed under his arm without ducking as he held the door open. The same smell of honey and mango wafted about, and Erik watched after her as he held his breath, her back to him as she walked a few steps ahead. Her figure was most appealing. Erik looked up at the security guard and whispered one thing, leaning in close to his ear as he remembered the man's discrepancy. He had allowed Carlotta's presence.

"Be grateful, you are _alive_."

Erik had been filled with such loathing for Carlotta, that he had forgotten where he was. He was lost, in the dark recesses of his mind, and he could only see Carlotta's smug face, and Christine's hurt expression. Erik hadn't realized that Christine was standing beside him, holding his hand. She ordered him to come, and he did, following her without question or thought, as all traces of Carlotta's expression was replaced with visions of a dancing Christine. They got into the limousine, and Erik found to his utter horror that Christine was already falling asleep, as she had fallen against his arm. Erik was disheartened. That would mean that they would have to cut their evening short. Damn Nadir for suggesting that Christine should take a day to pamper herself, they could have had the whole day to themselves. Oh, but it had been _worth_ it.

He tried to tell her that she had to go home, but she protested, wishing to hear him play. He could not deny it to her, anything she asked of him, he would comply, but he made her promise that she would tell him when she was ready to leave, and she nodded, lightly dozing against him. Erik was sad, but tried to hide it. He wouldn't get his waltz with Christine after all. After a few minutes silence, where Erik only closed his eyes and concentrated on regulating his breathing when holding Christine in such bliss, her phone lit up, making Erik's leg vibrate as her purse sat in their shared lap. One name showed on the screen, once Christine had looked. Raoul.

Ah, Erik knew that name. It was the name of a boy her age back in London. They were good friends, if Erik understood correctly, from Christine's videos. He was never in them, but she did mention him on occasion. Erik knew that jealously would not befit him, so he chose to say nothing, though his mind was reeling. Why would he be phoning her now? Did the idiot not know she was fine? Surely the boy would have seen her in the newspapers and on the internet? So why did he feel the need to ring? Would Christine listen to it in front of him? Would she give him agony by thinking of another man in his presence. Would she let him hear the boy's voice?

Christine said she would listen to it later, and Erik was appeased for now. They went back to watching New York spin around them, after speaking privately to each other about their path, and the two of them sat in bliss as Erik began pointing things out to her, describing the various buildings, and how they were unique. He had thousands of architectural facts about New York stored in his head. Christine smiled along with each fact, humming if she knew which building he was talking about, and stayed silent to let Erik talk about the ones she wasn't too familiar with. Erik wanted to ask what she thought of the buildings here compared to the buildings back home, but he didn't know how she would respond.

Pulling into the undergound garage, Erik looked down to see a sleepy Christine looking about her. Erik thought about his apartment, the music room was not very comfortable, and was very untidy at the moment, Erik couldn't remember if he tidied up his music sheets from the other night, but he was under the impression that it was not the case. He desperately wanted to play his music for her, maybe even find a song for her to sing to him one day, but she'd be more at ease in the living room. At least then, she could listen to his music, and if she was alert, then maybe he would get his dance. That, and Erik wasn't sure what would happen in he took Christine in his sanctuary. A new thought suddenly dawned on Erik.

"Christine, I will be back in a few minutes, I just want to..." Blast! There was no way he was going to say that he just wanted to make sure that Nadir wouldn't be there _as well_. "I want to make sure my apartment is ...clean."

Christine yawned, nodding. "Okay."

Erik managed to search his apartment for the constantly interrupting detective and found no sign of him anywhere, which Erik took to be a good sign, and Erik began dashing around his apartment, getting some drinks together, and a plateful of fresh fruit. He placed them on a table in the living room, and quickly tried to bring in some speakers and some albums from his music room, nearly stumbling back into the living room as he tried to hold a reasonable amount of CD's without them all spilling everywhere. Erik made sure that the small lights surrounding the Koi pond were turned on, and he randomly chose a song from one of his albums to play for her. Light violins and the gentle tinkling of a piano filled the room, and Erik remembered the song well. It had been one of the light, happy songs for a movie he had written the score for. The film didn't stick out in Erik's head, but this song always had. It had been used for the part of the film where the young, shy girl had been expressing her love for her new warrior husband, and Erik wondered if Christine had ever seen the film. Would she even recognize the song? Would she see the deeper meaning behind it?

After making sure that everything was perfect, Erik joined Christine back down in the underground parking garage, and opened the door for her, to reveal her lily white legs, one resting over the other as she stopped swinging her feet. Christine was smiling towards the front of the limousine as she got out, her heels clacking along the granite floor, and then turned to Erik.

"Is everything alright now?" She asked, taking his arm without thought.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure we were truly alone."

"You mean without Nadir?" She asked cheekily with a grin. "You think he could have gotten here before us?"

"I am more than confident in saying that he could beat me here and still have coffee waiting for us. Don't ask me how he does it for that is the only trick I cannot figure out of his."

Christine giggled as they slowly walked over to the hidden elevator, her eyes lowered as she kept her face to the ground. She raised her gaze, and watched once more as Erik's fingers drifted across the rocky wall. Erik could see that Christine's was intrigued, as she began looking around the section where his pinky finger had secretly pressed a small hidden button, and Christine frowned.

"It must be something." She sighed, wiping her forehead.

"You are trying to figure out how it works? Where the doors come from, and how they are activated?" Erik asked as they entered the elevator.

"Well I get that it's an illusion. There's an opening, and you stand in front of it, but then you don't see the opening, and it's not until you start walking away that you see the opening. But I have no idea how you create the opening. At first you just see a wall, but then it's not a wall. It's incredible." Christine thought aloud, taking his arm as they rode their way up.

Erik laughed, as Christine continued, comparing it to a fantasy film she had watched when she was younger, yawning as they soon reached his apartment, tired as her eyes locked onto his when opened his front door, giving her a haloed effect as she stood close to him. Her green eyes turned amber from the glow of the yellow Koi pond lights, each ringlet of hair that bounced around her face was gleaming as her face lit up.

"Thank you, for bringing me. It's nice to be in your apartment alone." She said, still staring at him.

"It has been no trouble, Christine, please sit yourself down while I get you something to eat. Why don't you pick the music as well, I want to know everything."

Christine smiled, and nodded, looking up finally into Erik's apartment, and gave a small gasp of surprise as she stood staring at the dimly lit apartment, lit only by the pond lights and the technicolor moonlight that streamed into his home. He knew she would like it.

* * *

**Oh my god, thank you all for reviewing, I've been on cloud nine all day! You don't have to review everyday, but I am curious to hear what you think!**

**Hi Curious! Your review made me smile the most. And don't worry about off track, it helps to keep me on mine!**

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**Hiya Kumon5! I'm not quite sure if I want to give Raoul another girl, but I will tell you this, girls will be an influence on his reactions.**

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**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**

**In other news LONG LIVE THE NEW PRINCE! THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE HAS BEEN BORN! I can't believe it, I was hoping for a beautiful little girl, but I don't mind being ruled by a prince ;) So proud to be English!**


	26. Chapter 26

**_My Fair Lady's "I Could Have Danced All Night"_**

_I could have danced all night!  
I could have danced all night!  
And still have begged for more.  
I could have spread my wings  
And done a thousand things I've never done before.  
I'll never know what made it so exciting;  
Why all at once my heart took flight. I only know when he  
Began to dance with me I could have danced, danced, danced_

_All night! _

* * *

Christine was waiting for Erik to return from what he said was cleaning, but she was a bit skeptical and wondered what he was really up to. The drive had been pleasant, Erik had been keen to talk about the buildings they passed, but Christine had been dozing, still alert, but just resting her eyes. She didn't care that much, they were the only buildings to her. She noticed the differences of course, the grid street layout, how loud everything was and the wide streets, but apart from that, it wasn't that much different from London. London had long winding streets that were difficult to give directions for to tourists, and was wonderful to wander through. She missed just walking about London, it was such a beautiful sight at Christmas, when fairy lights were placed on every single tree, and the twinkling red and green lights rippled off of the Thames. She hoped one day that she would be able to show Erik that sight. She fantasized about the two of them walking alongside the trees, over the Thames, with no-one in sight. The buildings were important to Erik though, so she tried to listen to every word that she said about their history, though it wasn't hard with his soft voice.

Christine recalled the trees in London again as she stared out into the underground garage, comparing them to the unimpressive lights she could see now. She loved fairy lights, her dressing table back home were adorned with light blue fairy lights, which looked like the early morning, just after sunrise. It was amazing to behold, when she was getting ready at night.

Christine was still waiting for Erik when she decided she needed something to drink. She wanted to make sure her head was clear when she went in there, and Christine could see an unopened bottle of water waiting for her in the bar, that had been sealed in a glass cabinet of sorts. She couldn't see how to open the glass box though. How Nadir had gotten into the drink cabinet the other night, Christine had no clue as she began prodding her fingers at the corners, hoping that she had to push to panel to unlock the bar.

"Are you alright, Miss Daae?" Spoke an unfamiliar American accent from behind Christine.

She looked around, kneeling down on her hands and knees, her shoes forgotten on her seat, and looked towards the intercom. The doors weren't open and no-one was poking their head inside so it must have been the intercom, which meant it was the driver. She then turned back to look towards the front of the limousine to where the driver was sitting, and saw that the screen between them was closed. How had he seen her? Christine groaned with embarrassed aggravation, sitting back in her seat as she pressed her hands to her cheeks, her eyes darting about as she looked for the right button for her to respond. She saw it, and quickly pressed it in.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you. Just trying to get some water to drink. I don't suppose you know how to open the bar, do you?" She asked as she pulled a hopeful face, and released the button.

"Just press the button and the glass should disappear, Miss." The driver responded.

Christine wanted to ask what button, but felt foolish for asking, and instead looked at the various buttons on the intercom. There were two for volume, which were connected to speakers, and two for lights and there were three that Christine couldn't figure out what they did. One of them looked like a fan, but she pressed it and nothing happened. There was another that looked like a circle, but that didn't do anything. The last one was a triangle, and Christine pressed it, not sure what to expect. She looked down at the glass, but it had gone, leaving bar open for use. Christine smiled, it was an interesting trick, and she wished she had been looking when it happened. She couldn't see where the glass had gone, but it must have slid away into some slot. The top piece puzzled her, but she ignored it as she turned back to the intercom.

"Thanks." She said. "The name's Christine, by the way. You don't have to call me that if you feel uncomfortable though."

She leaned forward onto the balls of her feet and took the water bottle, taking a few sips before sitting back in her seat. She struggled to put her shoes on, but did so to keep her energy going, and took a few more small sips.

"I'm John. I don't think Mr Destler will have told you that." The driver chuckled through the intercom to her surprise.

Christine brightened. "It's a pleasure to finally chat with you. No, he kinds of doesn't like it when I talk to other people."

"Yes," He laughed. "So did you have fun then, meeting the other celebrities?"

Christine nodded, but realized her mistake and said, "Yes, it was great. I met so many fascinating people, in all sorts of jobs."

"I'm happy you got along with them, I wasn't sure if they'd take to you."

"Oh no, it was fine. They were just normal people."

"Yeah, but some of them have a pompous attitude."

"Well it never showed. They were all perfectly polite, without stepping too far."

"Yes." John answered with tone that suggested that he was aware of the Carlotta situation. "Well, enjoy your drink now, Mr Destler is coming."

Christine turned around, getting herself into place as she quickly crossed her legs, but uncrossed them as she placed the drink by the bar, then returned to her original position as Erik stood beside the door. She tried to look calm as the door opened, but she couldn't help but swing her feet excitedly. She stopped though, gathering herself as she climbed out of the limousine, smiled towards the rearview mirror where John gave a friendly nod. She turned to Erik, taking his arm and admired the David mask as she took in the different shadows and highlights. He looked beautiful in person, she thought, now that she knew what his mask was made to resemble. One of her followers had forwarded her a link to an article which discussed Erik's mask. She hadn't read it, as she only stared at the photo of Michelangelo's 'David'. The pupils had been carved to look like little beads, his nose and row were perfectly molded, and the curls made Christine want to run her hands through it. It was Erik.

She had asked if he was finished, and Erik answered that he had been checking to see if Nadir was about. Christine wasn't sure if he was being serious, he couldn't possibly have beaten them, but Erik assured her that he could do it easily as they approached the rocky looking wall that held the elevator. Christine could see the wall shift, but wasn't sure what it was as she watched Erik's hand flourish across the wall for show. Suddenly, Christine could see Erik's hand pass through the wall to touch something, making the elevator doors open. They had talked about it, but Erik hadn't explained how it worked. They rode the elevator up and Christine knew he was watching her. Did he have something planned for her, or was this just his regular behavior? How annoying the mask was. She'd never be able to tell what he was really thinking, and she finally put together what that meant for them. She would never know if he was truly sorry, or happy, or sad. She knew when he was happy or angry by the way he stood or by hand gestures, but the mask concealed everything. It just had this permanent decisive stare, facing forward.

She was glad to be there nonetheless, as Erik opened his front door, and she held her hands, standing close to him as she told him her thoughts, as she noticed the change in light. Christine stared at him, a dim, warm, yellow light playing across his mask. He was magnificent to behold.

Erik suggested that she help herself to his music while he got her something to eat, which seemed unnecessary, she wasn't hungry after eating an apple pie and a cupcake, but it seemed to keep him happy as she mentally shrugged it off and looked up into his apartment. She gasped, taking in the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. The large rose window, built up with thousands of different colours, was casting thousands of rays of tinted moonlights all over the room and across the doors. The books were highlighted, and the plaques beneath them shone beautifully casting reflected light off in different directions. The lights around the Koi pond were lit up too, and Christine stepped out, holding her fingers up to her lips. There was music playing from a set of speakers on the table directly in front of Christine, and it was playing a slow, soft , dark melody that made Christine think of caverns, lanterns and stalectites.

"We are grateful it is a full moon?" Erik asked, placing his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her, placing his head directly beside her on her left. His voice was so smooth and fluid, and Christine felt warmed by it.

"Yes." Christine sighed as her eyes lifted to the cracked orb that hung in the sky outside. "Oh Erik, thank you for letting me see this." She said, captivated as she looked around slowly. "Your home is so splendid!"

"Thank you, Christine, now you sit right here and choose something else for us to listen to." He said, gently pushing her forward to seat her before a pair of speakers and a CD player. Didn't he have anything more up to date? Surely he must have listened to his favourite songs on an mp3 player or something? Christine hummed, thinking that Erik must have preferred his music on CD's, and she smiled. It was an odd quirk, but at least she got to see the covers for each of the CD's that Erik had selected for her.

"What have we got here?" Christine asked, pulling a large stack of CD's towards her after she sat down.

"My music." Erik said simply, walking around the couch proudly.

Christine dropped her jaw. "_All_ of it?" There were loads, he couldn't have composed them all.

"No, those are my early years, some movie soundtracks, and some of my latest work. Enjoy!" And Erik disappeared into the kitchen.

Christine sat in bewilderment, made more bizarre by the fact that he had left to get her food, but had placed apples and oranges on a plate before her. Christine would have laughed, if she hadn't then realized that at least half of the cases that Erik had provided were dual CD's, and Christine panicked, laughing in disbelief. She began to sort through the music, admiring the covers and biting her lip whenever saw an album name that pleased her. She recognized some of the movies that Erik had written music for, and it was amazing to find Erik's name on _every_ single back. She wondered that motivated Erik to write scores for all of these movies, which had no real similarity, Christine felt. There were action movies and romantic comedies and horror soundtracks. Christine didn't know what album to pick, let alone one song. She picked one of his original albums up, and stroked the front plastic cover, which showed a red rose against the black background. She turned it over. The songs were expectedly named after flowers, and Christine opened up the case, dropping the CD into the CD player and made sure the volume was just right before she randomly chose the song 'Lily of the Valley'.

Christine listened to lilting lullaby that drifted around Erik's apartment, and Christine leaned back against the couch, sighing as she closed her eyes in complete tranquility.

"You like this one?" Erik asked, appearing in the room with a cup of coffee, standing in the kitchen doorframe.

"It's all beautiful." Christine said, looking up at Erik, smiled, and turned back to her original position, her head facing forward as she felt all of her muscles relax.

"I am the same with your videos, my dear." Erik said, walking down to present her with the coffee, but stopped. "Or should I have gotten you some tea?" He asked himself, staring at the coffee.

"I think the coffee was a better idea." Christine said, reaching up to take it from his hands. "I love tea, but the coffee over here is delicious!"

Erik sighed, and watched her as she blew on the coffee to cool it down and took a sip. She peeked up at him while drinking, and had to pull the drink away from her lips before saying, "You okay?"

"...Yes." Erik said, as though he couldn't understand why she'd be asking.

"Well, you're not doing anything, Erik." Christine said, resting her coffee on her lap as she looked at him. "Do you want to sit next to me?" Christine asked teasingly, a smile on her face as she patted the space directly beside her.

"Yes."

Christine placed her coffee on the table, and Erik joyfully joined her on the couch, gathering Christine up into his arms before she had a chance to sink back into her seat. His fingers teased her sides, and she began squirming, struggling to escape his playful games.

"Erik, no! Stop! Please!" Christine cried between tears, as both Erik's hands now gripped her sides, rising up to tickle her from around the back of her neck.

Erik's hands sharply pulled away, breathing raggedly as he watched her, and Christine wheezed with laughter as she fell down onto her side, away from Erik, against the leather couch.

"Christine?" Erik asked, worriedly, leaning over her.

Christine had to take a couple of breaths, and looked up at Erik, covering her face with her hands, and began to laugh. Erik pulled himself away with much reluctance as she sat up.

"You're okay?" He asked with such concern.

"Yes!" She laughed, dropping her hands are she stared up at him. "You've never tickled someone before?"

Erik watched her for a second as her hair finally settled, and said, "No, I have not, Christine."

"Well you have now." She said as she took his hands and rested them in his lap, trying to stop her heart from bursting in her ears.

She smiled, biting her lip as she began to stare at Erik's thin frame, and wondered if he would enjoy being tickled. She felt he was smiling, but she sensed that while he could do that to her, he would not be as pleased if she did the same. It was a treat for him, so she would let him enjoy it. They were already in a good mood.

"I have now." He repeated, staring off into the distance and Christine chose to stay quiet as they both listened to Erik's wonderful music, which revealed to Christine to such heavenly chords and more importantly, it revealed Erik to her. It confessed such tremendous thought and creativity.

"Christine, would you like to dance now?" Erik asked, interrupting her line of thought.

"Yes, very much." Christine said, now that she was more awake. "But are you sure this is the sort of music we can dance to?"

"I would very much like to dance with you to my music, but it does not matter to me which song we play as long as you are happy."

"Then can I choose something?"

"If you wish." Erik said, and waited as Christine turned to the stack of CD's.

She leaned in close to read all of the titles, and saw the album she had bought, his latest. She began to take it out, pretending it was Jenga, and forgot herself as the stack began to fall over, spilling CD's everywhere. Christine pulled away, staring at the stack as she held his CD close to her stomach, sitting upright as she found she couldn't look at Erik.

"Um, Jenga?" She offered, then turned to look at Erik, sucking on her lips as she tried not to laugh.

Erik was staring at her, and then back to the CD's as he began to clean them up. "Yes."

Christine frowned. "You know what Jenga is, right?"

Erik turned to look at her. "Yes, I am aware that it is a game with rectangle shaped blocks."

"And you've never played?" Christine asked as she began to help him.

"No." He replied coldly as they finished stacking all of the CD's again.

"Then we shall have to play that too. We could have a game night!" Christine said as she still leant forward with Erik towards the table, tilting her head to see him better.

"If you would like. I have no games here." He replied.

"We don't have to if you don't want to, I'm not going to force you." She said, looking at the CD in her hands as she pulled it from her lap. It was called 'Crystalize', and the background was a beautiful icy mountain, with a lake in the forefront.

"No, I'm sorry Christine, forgive me, I am just impatient to dance with you. I feel like I have been waiting a lifetime."

Christine blushed. "Forgive me, Erik. It'll just be a second."

She could feel Erik's eyes on the back of her head as she switched the CD's, and skipped through the songs as she landed on the one that had stuck out the most to her. It was track number seven, 'Desperate Streams', and it was the perfect rhythm to dance to. She turned back to him and smiled.

"Do you like this?" Erik asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Yes, I've listened to this one the most." She swore.

"Then we shall dance to it."

Erik immediately stood up, removing his jacket to drape it over the armrest, and held one hand out to her, his other held behind his back. He cut a very striking figure as the moonlight hit him, and Christine stared in awe, placing her hand in his. She rose off of the couch and he took her other arm, steadying her as he led her over to the Koi pond. They stood before it, and Christine stared into the pond. Erik was staring at her, probably admiring her hair, and she hoped he would run his fingers through it, but instead he only held her around her waist with one hand, and held her other hand, turning her to him as he got into place, and Christine gingerly placed her free hand on Erik's shoulder, and stood closer to him. The mask's lips were just grazing the top of her head, and Christine wanted very much to rest her head on Erik's shoulders, but she could Erik was already getting worked up, and she questioned herself on whether moving closer to him had been a good decision.

Erik's hand slipped closer around her as he purred, "_Thank you, Christine_."

Christine felt herself take a deep breath as her head slumped against his chest without thought and sighed happily as she rubbed her cheek against his soft white shirt.

"Are you okay?" Erik laughed, rubbing his thumb against her hip.

"Yes, that was wonderful." Christine said, immersing herself into him as she replayed his voice in her head. It was his special tone for her, she knew it.

Erik laughed again, and Christine stood straight as they slowly began to move to the rhythm, slowly. They began to speed up, and they moved around the room with a state of grace and Christine smiled, though wasn't sure if she could keep up with him, he seemed to want to go faster. She sent him a glance that she hoped conveyed a sense of calm, and Erik slowed, adjusting his grip on her hands, realizing that she was still tired. They began to slow dance, and Erik rested his head atop of Christine's, making her smile. She slowly tilted her head back, the mask's cheeks hitting her forehead, then traced her nose, and Christine placed her lip's on the mask's cheek, before hugging him, embarrassed for feeling so childish, but she was exhilarated as she recalled how her warm lips had pressed against the cold, stiff mask. She buried her face in his chest, which was becoming her favourite way of snuggling with him, and Erik stopped dancing with her, holding her closer as he began to crouch over her shoulder, panting heavily. The hand that held her waist drifted up to rest between her shoulder blades, while the other held her cheek, his fingers digging into her scalp as her hair fell between his gloves digits. He was holding her head up to stare at him, and Christine smiled, though she could tell it was an uneasy frown, as he had a very severe hold on her head. She was smiling, because his constant disbelief that she was here was endearing, and Christine's heart began to beat in an unusual way as she held his shoulders. He was brilliant, but needed constant sweet words and tender support. Christine wondered if she was up to the challenge. But as she stared up into the white shadowy pupils, she decided that she was.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**horseyyay - I hear about the Zara pregnancy, but I didn't think anyone cared! I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's about to heat up!**

**emilovesyouxp - You'll just have to wait and see! :D **

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	27. Chapter 27

**_Jaron & The Long Road To Love - I Accuse You_**

_You can be held, you can't be held down,_  
_You've silently become the talk of the town,_  
_You're a princess, who doesn't need a crown._  
_And you move through my heart without a sound.  
__Still I always know, that you're around.__  
_

_I accuse you, for being perfect, for me._

_You're always one turn and two steps from the door,_  
_Just when I expect less you give me more._  
_You're understated and impossible to ignore,_  
_You can take me from love to war,_  
_Then right back where we were before._

_I accuse you of being perfect for me._

_Every word, down to the letter,_  
_I know you, but I know me better._  
_I said love before I met you,_  
_But now I know for sure._  
_I never knew love, never knew love,_  
_I never knew love before._

_I accuse you of being perfect for me._

* * *

Christine had stepped into the apartment, her hands drifting behind her as she stared about, and Erik had been filled with rapture. Her gasp made her seem so small in Erik's large apartment as it echoed around, and he stepped close to her, to keep her warm in the cold, dimly lit room. She had approved of his home, giving undue acclamation, and Erik felt very blessed indeed, holding her back against his chest. He guided her over to the couch, and made her sit, and stayed for a moment as Christine leaned forward in her seat. She smiled to herself as she picked up one or two CD's, and asked him what the selection had been comprised of. He told her proudly that it was all his own music, and she had been flabbergasted, clearly amazed to see that he had composed so many songs. Erik had pulled himself away to enter the kitchen. He wanted to make her all sorts of food, and the present of oranges and apples he had left for her in the other room should have pleased her. He realized though that what she needed was something hot and delicious to drink, and he set about making her a cup of coffee, using his favourite brand as he dreamt about dancing with Christine, her long ringlets bouncing around, with a merry smile on her face. He almost poured in too much milk just thinking about it, as he very much was looking forward to it. He swore to himself, cleaning up the small spill on the plain white mug with a nearby towel, and stood before the steaming cup, staring into his reflection.

He would make her happy, if she let him. He would make her the powerful woman in the world if she let him continue to fawn over her. She had so much potential, and it was driving him mad, knowing she could sing, but wouldn't because of her grief. He hoped to cure her of it, and if every time they held hands, or held each other, it brought her closer to singing for him, then he would wait 200 years comprised of each of those individual seconds, and be glad of it, too.

He picked up her coffee, and went to stand in the open door, and watched as she changed CD's, leaning back into the couch as she rested her head and closed her eyes. She looked exhausted, but happy, and Erik took that time to ask her if she enjoyed this particular song, to which she said she loved all of his music. It pleased him, and he stepped forward to hand her the drink he had made, commenting that he felt much the same way about her videos, but paused as he asked himself whether she would have preferred tea. He must have said it out loud, as she told him that the coffee was fine, as she found it delicious, which made Erik stare at her as she took the hot coffee from him.

He stared at her with the same wonder he had everytime she managed to say something that he hadn't expected. This was one of those moments. Erik was trying to find the words, but his mind had come to a blank as he watched her. She was so beautiful. Why was she here with him? What did she see in him? He wasn't fun, or particularly humorous. He tried to think of what she saw in him, but he couldn't come up with anything. Did she enjoy the attention he gave her, or did she want more?

She interrupted his line of thought by asking him to sit, and he did so, watching her body curve as she leaned forward to put her drink down. Erik devilishly found himself watching her tight black dress begin to form ripples around her sides, and he wanted to stick his fingers in the folds. He licked his lips, and pounced as his gloved hands reached around her back and began to poke and prod at her ribs, making her jump. She began to turn towards him, but her face was contorted into an odd shape, and she tried to grab at him, squealing with delight as she brought her knees up to defend herself against his barrage of tickles. It was glorious, Erik found, and he eagerly stared at her bare thighs as her dress began to hitch up. He lifted his hands around her neck, still tickling her as she tried to fight him, but she was being gentle, and Erik stroked her underneath her hairline. Her face was scrunched up when she began to cry for him to stop, and Erik found it had been like a slap as he removed his hands from her presence, and she fell down onto her side, laughing as she clutched at her ribs, her knees still drawn up to her chest. Erik tried to ignore the raised hemline as he leaned over her. She was alright, wasn't she? She had asked him to stop, and he had, not wishing to upset her any further, but it seemed that he should have kept going, as she was still laughing as she sat up, her face covered by her hands. Erik wanted to tear those hands away and see her face to know that everything _was_ alright.

She asked him if he had ever tickled anyone before, and he answered no, as he purposefully watched her, trying to banish his mother's voice from his head. She proudly informed him that he had now, and Erik smiled. He had tickled someone, and they had not refused him. It was a wonderful feeling, thinking about it. It had been very pleasurable, and he felt his body stir as he thought of her trembling body beneath her. That thought prompted him to ask her to ask now for his dance, but she suddenly decided that the song that was playing wasn't good enough, and Erik tried to be patient as Christine began to look through the stack of CD's he had left for her. She saw his latest album, and started to pull it out when all of the CD's fell over. Christine sat back, in embarrassed mirth, and looked at him, smirking. She began to offer to hold a game night, something he supposed was an apology to appease him for spilling his CD's, but he wasn't angry. He just wanted to be dancing with her already. She was teasing him, promising him such treats and then withholding them from her. But she _promised_, she said she would _dance_ with him. She apologized when she understood that he was impatient, and she quickly changed CD's, picking his latest album and skipped through the songs until she came to the one she wanted. It was a surprising choice, and it was one he knew. It was perfect for dancing, but too slow for Erik's liking. He wanted to wildly throw her about the room and hope that would make her laugh again.

They soon rose up off the couch, Erik first, and moved over to the Koi pond. He had been right in thinking that the light would only make her look more enchanting. She positively glowed, and he couldn't wait to take her in his arms. Erik felt a very lucky man that night, and he knew he would be replaying it in his head later that evening when she would be gone. He eagerly took her waist, and waited for her to start rocking him. He had enjoyed that, it had been divine, but she wasn't doing anything now. Christine's hand turned in towards her, her fingers curled up as he wrapped his gloved fingers around her. Her other hand was on his shoulder, and Erik found it to be a pleasant weight. She stood closer to him, of her own accord, and the top of her head just about skimmed the mask's lips.

_Oh, how I wish had no mask!_ Erik cried.

If she only knew what bliss she brought him by just standing there, being alive. It was exhilarating. But was she happy? She wasn't looking at him. He knew what would please her, and spoke in the tone he had come to call hers. She had closed her eyes, her head dropping unceremoniously against his chest, and he was certain that she would be able to feel the terrific beating of his heart. He had been scared at first, she might have fallen unconscious, but she was still standing, and still breathing. She even began to rub her cheek against his white shirt, and Erik had felt playful as he asked her if she was alright. He was sure Christine was a lightweight, as he hadn't used the full potential that he could bring to her through his singing. She replied with such an odd response, claiming that the experience had been 'wonderful'. Erik was curious as to what she felt, but it only led to thoughts about Christine when she was alone at night, and he banished those evil thoughts as Christine took the lead and they slowly began to move about the room. That decree hadn't followed through though, as Christine's warm, tight body, pressed against him, her thighs bumping into him, her chest pressed against him, filled him with such white hot pain that he had unconsciously sped up, holding her tight against him. She had brought him back to the real world with one look, a bemused expression, for a forgiving one. He had slowed down then, still holding her to him, and he had rested his face carefully against her crown, and he felt her heart sped up through her dress.

Christine then dared to do something that he had not expected. She had pulled her head back, taking a deep sigh as she leaned up, holding onto his arm for support, and kissed the mask's cheek, the corner of her mouth meeting the corner of the mask's mouth. Erik had been in Nirvana, starstruck as Christine then buried her head in his chest, the top of her head snuggled in close to Erik's neck, where her lips pressed against the collar.

Erik didn't know where he was. It was as though he was in a fog, and not even Christine's voice could reach him. He was lost in his own thoughts, and the demon spoke to him once more.

_Take her. She will be sweet_. It sang to him._ Ask her to stay. She will say yes._

_No, never. _He answered, and found his head had drooped over her right shoulder, and he was hunched over like the old man he was, panting for fresh air and he suddenly wished to remove his mask. Christine was holding him, making uncertain noises as she fretted over him. Erik knew he had to be strong for her sake, and straightened himself, looming over her unintentionally as he held her body in a way that made Erik think could be interpreted as forward, and he tilted her head face up to look at him, his hand holding her head firmly in place so that she would be looking into his face directly. She was smiling, but she seemed concerned about something, and Erik cursed to himself as he realized he must have been hurting her.

"Oh, Christine, you should have said something." He whispered forlornly, taking his hand away from her.

"It's okay, Erik. I like your hands. You were just thinking hard, that's all." She said, taking both his hands and placing them back into her hair, where she held them in place as she looked up at him. "But I'd like to feel _your_ hands."

Erik pulled away, cringing as she asked of him something that he could not give freely. "Christine, my skin-"

"Is _your_ skin. You could very well be a statue, but I would still wish for those hands to be alive so they could hold me. Please, this is all I ask of you. It is not much, but it is something that has occupied my thoughts a lot lately." Christine said, stepping forward lightly so she could be close to him again.

"Christine, you would not find it a pleasant experience." Erik protested, walking away from her as he approached the couch, waving his hands at her as she though she might blow away like dandelion seeds.

"I do not care! It would be an experience I would wish never to forget!" Christine argued, skipping down the stairs as she followed up to stand beside him.

"Christine..." Erik groaned.

Christine took his hands, and held them to her lips, the same way that Erik had held hers, his fingers curled up, and her tiny hands wrapped around as best as she could manage.

"Please, Erik. Wouldn't it be nice to touch me?"

Erik groaned again. It would be nice to feel the sensation of her hair, her skin, her lips against his skin, but he didn't want to make her cry. Erik could not resist her pleading eyes however, and nodded, sitting down as he felt defeated, while Christine excitedly sat down beside him.

She paused though as Erik began to tug at the cuffs of the thick black glove on his left hand, trying to hide the view from her as he sat on her left.

"Would you prefer me to close my eyes?" She asked, and Erik turned to look at her. He nodded meekly, and she did so, smiling the whole time.

Erik slipped the gloves off and kept them in his lap, in case he would have to put them back on again if his hands displeased her. He stared at his hands. They were skeletal, and the skin was horribly cracked, like the rest of his body. They were discoloured too, with a slight yellow tinge, with splotches of purple and green. There were blue veins as well that were visible, but they hardly showed in the dim light. He hated his hands, and he knew that Christine would too. She would throw them away from her. He was overcome with a sense of horrid angst until Christine said,

"Well?"

Erik looked up and began to regret his actions. She looked so beautiful, like the angel she was, and he stared at her hair, following one ringlet down to settle above her breast. He sighed, and said calmly,

"Please, _don't cry_." He said, reaching forward with his index finger to touch her on her lips, but he stopped himself, and chose to touch her cheek, his bruised nails touching her first.

"Oh, Erik I won't - Oh!" She cried, having felt the tip of Erik's finger. "Hello."

Erik sighed, and pressed his other fingers to her cheek, and she tilted her head to the left, making him cup her cheek and jaw, and she stopped, feeling the peeling skin and the deep ridges that were the cracks. She seemed to be in thought, and it left Erik in agony as he wondered what she was thinking. Christine then reached up and took his hand with both of hers and Erik wanted to pull back in horror, but he could only stare as she began to press her manicured fingers over his palm and around his wrist. She held his hand firmly to her face, and reached out with her other hand, looking for something. Erik reached up with his other hand, hoping that was she was looking for and her pinky finger fell directly towards his open fingers, and she grabbed his hand to bring it to the other side of her face. Erik wanted to cry as she sighed, perfectly content as she asked,

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes." Erik croaked. He felt elated when her eyelashes fluttered for a second, and then opened to reveal her clear blue eyes.

Her eyes darted about, but landed on his face, and she smiled. Erik relaxed into his seat and scanned her lips. They were a promising shadow of pink, but he didn't dare touch them. Christine adjusted herself in her seat, and began to stroke his hands carefully, feeling each ridge as her eyes jumped between each hand, her lips pursed as she asked sadly,

"Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes," He said with a pang of remorse. "But not now."

"Oh Erik," She sighed as she brought his hands to her lips. She kissed them sweetly, and she closed her eyes, holding his hard, damaged fingers against her soft, plump lips.

It had been ecstasy, and Erik had burst into tears, bowing his head as tears started to fall against the soft lining inside the mask. There were no words to be said for Erik's exultation and gratification, as Christine leaned down, removing his hands from her lips to kiss the back of his mask. She was holding his wicked hands in her lap, and she pulled away, sitting upright as she waited for Erik to come back to her. She stroked his index fingers, and Erik sat upright, taking in her half-closed eyes, her gentle smile and her blissful expression as she said,

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, Christine, my _dear_ Christine." Erik cried, and held his arms up. "Will you let me _hold_ you?"

"I will." Christine said, smiling as Erik leaned back into the corner of the couch, and Christine crept forward slowly, dropping her head against his shoulder as she lay against his side, one hand in her lap, the other on his stomach, just above his belt. Erik held his arm out from her, watching as she snuggled once more into him, her cheek pressed against his chest. She closed her eyes, and took a deep sigh, waiting for him to get comfortable. Erik lowered his arms, and settled them around her, one arm holding her back so she would be snug against him, his hand on her hips, and the other arm was held up to her face, so that he could hold her cheek again. She giggled warmly, but sleepily, and Erik seized the moment to marvel at how soft her skin was. It was like a peach, so soft and supple, but with a velvet feel to it. His hands must have felt horrible, and he quickly buried her hand in her hair.

That had been a very good decision, as Christine moaned, arching her back, her head rushing up to meet him as she looked up sleepily, the last few syllables dying in her mouth, her pink, glossy lips practically touching the mask's lips, her eyes meeting his and she blushed, turning a lovely shade of red. Erik had closed his eyes, remembering the way her body had shivered against him, but Christine lowered herself back down now, pressing her cheek once more against his chest as she tilted her head down. Erik didn't like that, and tilted it back up to look at her.

She began to breathe heavily, getting worked up and Erik tried to calm her, shushing her as he stroked a strand of her hair with his thumb. "Rest, Christine. Let me hold you. You are not in any danger."

She slackened, her eyelids fluttering as she said, "I know Erik. I trust you. You can touch me in any way you feel comfortable with."

Erik had felt as though she had grabbed his heart and squeezed it tight as she lowered her head and resettled herself, her gentle breathing reminding him how sweet and fragile she was. He hadn't responded. He didn't know how to, so he let her rest against him. He found her nestling up against him, drawing her knees slowly up so her feet could rest on the couch, and Erik held her hands carefully, afraid she would stir if he jostled them about too much. They sat in silence, and Erik had taken several deep breaths, marvelling in the tiny package that was Christine. She was so precious to him, words could not describe it. He watched her, fully attentive to her every need as he removed his hands to brush some of her hair away from her face, but returned his hands to hers, where she squeezed them slowly.

Some time passed, Erik hadn't been paying attention, and he only knew that the moon had moved considerably, and the room was now only lit by the pond lights. Erik was still watching her. Her breathing had slowed, and she moved less, so he was perfectly aware she was asleep. He tortured himself with the idea of touching her, but he didn't want to disturb her. He didn't deserve to touch her without her acknowledgment. He was still the monster that he was before, only now, he had found someone who couldn't see the freak in him.

He raised his hand slowly, his fingers trembling as he reached up. His fingers hovered over her closed, shiny lips, and Erik bit his lips as he plucked up the courage to touch them. They were perfect, every inch filling him with such sinful feelings. He enjoyed it though, and scraped his hideous thumb across her lips. They opened, slightly, and Erik grew hot as his pants tightened. He removed his hand, staring down at it as he began to scold himself.

_You fool. You loathsome mutant. How dare you. How could you?_

_But she said I could touch her._ Erik replied internally as Christine took a deep sigh.

The voice quietened, and Erik was overcome with a sense of panic, as he knew she would have to stay the night. There was no way he could let her leave now. There was only one place she could sleep comfortably, and that would be his bedroom. He would need to see if it was appropriate for her to see, and that meant leaving her on the couch, which meant getting up. Erik did as best as he could, as he thought with elation that she would be sleeping in his very bed. He rested her head against the couch, as she hugged her arms to her chest defensively, her dress riding up once more. He ignored it however as he crossed the room. He hoped that she would be restful when she awoke. He entered his room, after having turned off his music so it would not wake her, and looked around. It was bare, with only his bed, a tv on the wall, his drawers, his desk with his computer and his wardrobe. It was grey, and lifeless compared to Christine, and he hated that he didn't have a cheerful atmosphere for her to wake up in. He began to clear his desk of any papers, then moved onto the bed, where he straightened the pillows and pulled back the covers. He returned to Christine's side as quickly as he could manage without waking her. He reached under her tiny body, her head falling against his shoulder as he held her shoulders in the crook of his arms, and her head fell back and hung in the air, her sweet face turned up to him. He gathered her legs and swiftly stood up, confident he could carry her. He stood still for a moment, and closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of honey and mango.

To carry Christine was like floating on air. To carry the love of his life into his bedroom was a new, daunting experience, and Erik tried to ignore the implications of his actions, but it was difficult when Christine sighed, moving about in his arms as she slept on. Erik quickly came round though, and slowly carried her in his bedroom, staring at her as he took as long as he dared. He walked around the bed, and slowly lowered her in. She sank into the sheets, sighing as she splayed her hands out, her feet dangling off of the bed. Erik noticed she still had her shoes on, and removed them, taking delight at the sight of the grey toenails. He hadn't noticed until now. He looked to her hands, and saw they were grey too. Perhaps she would enjoy his bedroom he cheered himself as he placed her shoes at the foot of his bed. His hands twitched with such fervor as his eyes landed on her spread legs. She was slightly turned away from him, and her dress had ridden up perilously close to her upper thigh. Erik had seen her exposed thigh, that was facing him, and he noted it was white, and so soft. He squeezed his eyes shut, forbidding himself from going that far.

Erik tried to stop the screaming in his head, but it was only giving him a headache, and he opened his eyes to see his hand hovering just over her tender thigh. Erik gasped, but panicked and looked at Christine, who was still asleep.

_I thought she said you could touch her any way you felt comfortable._ A sneaky little voice reminded him.

_But I don't feel comfortable._ Erik cried, his fingers rising slightly.

_But you could be._ It told him. And he listened. _Wouldn't it be nice to touch her?_

Erik's fingers pressed against her inner thigh, and her skin quivered from his touch. Erik looked towards Christine, and saw that she still slept on, blissfully unaware of the crime that Erik was committing against her. He turned back however, and watched as her thighs twitched. He was morbidly curious, and turned his hand over, to brush the same patch with the back of his fingers. His cracked skin caught on hers, and Christine moaned, her fingers twitching as her eyelashes fluttered. She grew hot under his touch, and he swiped his hands away, furious with himself as he knelt beside her bed, pulling the light silk covers over her sleeping form. Christine took a few long deep breaths, and went back to dreaming.

Erik stood, and scrunched his warm fingers into fists as he watched over her. He deserved a thousand whips across his back for the detestable thing he had done to sweet, innocent Christine. She trusted him! She trusted him and he had betrayed that trust by indulging himself with sinful acts. He pulled his fists close to his face, digging them into the mask as he cried. Why did she trust him? He was a monster, a freak, who didn't deserve to be given such wonderful gifts. She was an angel, and he was torturing her, slowly ripping out her feathers in great bunches.

_You brute. How could you almost bring her to sexual release. You don't deserve her. Run. Run away and leave her._ The demon taunted, judging him as Erik ran from the room, falling on the couch as he sobbed, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as he buried his face into the hard, leather couch. He tried to stay quiet, and dug his nails deep into his chest. He took several breaths, willing himself to calm, and moaned Christine's name. She had been so perfect, and he had acted the diseased, uncouth, impatient and above all reprehensible malformation of the human existence. He didn't feel much comfort now as he slipped into an uneasy slumber, filled with dreams of Christine lying in his bed, and finding himself joining her beneath the covers.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	28. Chapter 28

**_The Beatle's 'If I Fell_**

_If I fell in love with you  
Would you promise to be true  
And help me  
Understand  
'Cause I've been in love before  
And I found that love was more  
Than just  
Holding hands_

_If I give my heart_  
_To you_  
_I must be sure_  
_From the very start_  
_That you_  
_Would love me more than her_

_If I trust in you_  
_Oh please_  
_Don't run and hide_  
_If I love you too_  
_Oh please_  
_Don't hurt my pride like her_

_'Cause I couldn't stand the pain_  
_And I_  
_Would be sad_  
_If our new love was in vain_

_So I hope you see_  
_That I_  
_Would love to love you_  
_And that she_  
_Will cry_  
_When she learns we are two_

* * *

Christine opened her eyes slowly, staring down into her lap as she awoke to find herself in a strange room. Christine looked around curiously, but she didn't feel scared. It was a minimalist bedroom, with a grey and chrome theme to it. It was all very businesslike, and Christine stared at the various objects around her. Thin strips of white light were settling on her body, and Christine could see that there was a window with blinds to her right, and a door to her left. Opposite her and slightly to the right of the bed was another door, and Christine wondered if that led to a bathroom. She hugged herself as she looked at the stainless steel desk, with an expensive looking computer resting on it, and a steel wardrobe with a matte effect, so there was no reflection. Christine was dismayed to see that there were no paintings, or photos, or anything that suggested 'home' to her, but there was a TV mounted on the wall.

_Did Erik leave me here? _Christine thought, as the night's events came flooding back to her. _I must have fallen asleep_.

She remembered dancing with Erik. That had been wonderful, but he had been a bit too eager, forgetting how tired she was. The feel of his hands against her had made her fully aware of his own body, and it had led to thoughts of his bare skin against hers. He had taken her head, holding it in place so she was forced to look up at him, and though his hard gloves were hurting her, she didn't think too long about it as she wished desperately that he would tear off his gloves and _touch_ her. Christine drew her knees up to her chest now that she was alone, and hugged them as she rested her face against them. She had managed to convince him, but she couldn't remember what she had said, only that his voice had been filled with dread and reluctant acceptance. It had nearly broken her to see him so sure that she would reject him, but she tried to show only the most positive feelings as she sat beside him on his leather couch. Erik had turned away from her, hoping to hide it all until the very last second, and Christine tried to put Erik at ease by asking if he would prefer it if her eyes were closed. She wanted him to be comfortable as well. He nodded, slowly, and she did as he wished, holding her breath as she listened to his fingers fumbling with the cuffs of his gloves, and she could hear as they slowly peeled off. Christine's heart was becoming so unreliable, as it pounded furiously in her ears one moment, and went deadly silent as neither of them spoke, or moved. She was beginning to worry, but reasoned with herself that he was probably preparing himself for the pain that he felt he was about to receive.

_I shall shower him with love and praise!_ Christine thought, smiling as she kept her breathing steady. _But I need to remember that this affliction has held him his whole life, and he has had a difficult one. I need to show him that I am not afraid, and that he is just a man to me._

She checked to see if he was alright, but he only asked her to not cry in a voice that sounded remarkably like a small child.

_Oh, it can't be that bad_. Christine had thought, and had been about to voice her thoughts, but then something pressed against her left cheek, and she had nearly jumped out of fright. He hadn't said anything about touching her cheek before, but she remembered that was being as much for his benefit as it was for her, and she cheered him on, by saying hello to him. He began to press his other fingers into her cheek by their tips, and she found them to be hard and dry. She was curious though, and turned her head so his hand would follow, and his fingers soon rested against her cheek, where she nearly pulled away when she thought she could feel the lint from the inside of the glove on each finger. But she managed to stop herself in time when a thought came to her head. Erik would have made sure that nothing would have been on his hands when he touched her. Her cheek twitched, and she wanted to open her eyes when she concluded that his skin must have been peeling. It was an unpleasant feeling, but Christine could easily disregard it as it was _his_ hands. They were thin besides, and it wasn't that much of an irritation.

She began to reach up, and feel every inch of skin she could find, her fingers roaming across his palm, over the back of his hand and down to his wrist, stopping before she reached his sleeves. Erik was much skinnier than she had realized, and wondered if Erik had tailored his entire outfit to make him look a lot bigger than he actually was. There were incredible ridges, and she wondered if what she was feeling were scars. Christine wanted so much to make Erik feel better, and she held his hand to her face, and she reached out searching for his other hand. She heard his clothes rustle, and her hand flew to his, taking hold of his fingers and brought them to her other cheek. She had been smiling, and wanted to look to see how he was responding, and some dark thought told her that it wouldn't make that much of a difference, but she asked him anyway. He said she could, and she opened her eyes, her first thought to see his eyes, and she found them after a moment. She felt safe as they looked at her, and it was an odd experience to think a statue's eyes made her feel better. She had stroked his hands, and felt more of them, carefully feeling _everything_ and she couldn't help but look at them.

She asked if they hurt him, because the nicks and slits looked wrong, and his skin was a pattern of different colours. They were bruised, but she had no idea what had made them. He replied they did sometimes, not but now, and Christine promised him that they would hurt him no longer as she took his hands and kissed them, his hard, thin hands trembling. Erik hunched his back, bowing his head as he began to cry, and Christine had stared at him, feeling pity as she leaned down as she kissed the cold, hard back of his mask. She held his hand in between her thighs, feeling comfortable enough let them sit there as she sat upright, watching him with no questions in her head as she knew he needed his time to come to terms with everything. She stared down at his hands, and saw that while they were small, they were still reasonably larger than hers. He was a man after all. The bruises worried her the most. They looked recent, and the colouring suggested the blows had been hard. The ridges she saw were soft, but the skin looked tight, and the dead skin that peeled from his hands worried her. She had stroked his fingers, hoping that Erik was having pleasant thoughts and returned her gaze to his bowed head. He seemed so small now, and Christine sleepily sighed, waiting for him to respond. He looked up at last and she asked if he was alright for what seemed like the hundredth time. He told her in such a sweet, tender tone that he was, and asked if she would let him hold her.

She agreed eagerly, and Christine remembered clambering over to him and dropping herself onto him, and there had been something urgent she had wanted to tell him, but couldn't remember. All she could remember was his cold, hard hands lovingly holding her as she found her thoughts growing hazy, and she had felt warm and safe beside him. He echoed her thoughts, and she comforted him by telling him that she knew, and told him he could touch her in any way he saw fit, because she knew she was going to fall asleep, and she was in no way inclined to leave. If Erik told her to move, then she would, but until then, she would carry on enjoying his embraces. She trusted him to treat her with decency, as he had after all this time.

Looking around her now, she smiled as got out of the bed, coming to the conclusion that this room was Erik's, and he had placed her there some time after she fell asleep. Her shoes were on the floor, but she decided to walk around barefoot, as she didn't want to wake him up. She couldn't hear anything from either of the two doors, and after adjusting her dress, she began the open the door across from her. It did lead to a bathroom, which had a door on the left wall, same as the other room, which meant that those two doors must have led to the living room. She walked in, looking around for a mirror, but found none, and quickly began to take care of a few things, washing her hands afterwards as she crept back into Erik's bedroom. She straightened the bed out, her finger tracing the silk grey sheets as she thought of Erik sleeping beneath them.

She wandered out slowly, quietly into the living room, and her eyes landed on Erik, sprawled out across the couch in what must have been an uncomfortable position. He wasn't moving, and he wasn't looking at her. Erik must have been asleep. Christine crept forward, tilting her body to the right as her legs walked around the table between them, and lightly kneeled before him, her eyes drawn to his bared hands. In the daylight, his hands weren't so unfamiliar, and hazy golden light played down on the both of them. Christine stroked his head, planting kisses on the mask's temple, and picked up the discarded gloves on the floor, resting them on the table as she picked up the coffee she had forgotten about the night before, and wandered off into the kitchen, curious to look around. The door was behind Erik and to the right, directly opposite the large Koi pond, and on the other side of the room was another door, which meant there was still a room she didn't know the contents of. She turned to look to her left as she approached the kitchen door. She held the doorframe, and looked at the other two doors, completely surrounded by bookshelves so there was no wall space. Christine pursed her lips, Erik had never mentioned those other two rooms either. She decided not to ask, he needed his privacy from her as well as from the media.

She entered the kitchen, and smiled. The kitchen had styled in the same fashion as the bedroom and the bathroom, in that it all was grey and silver. She emptied the coffee into the sink, placing the cup to one side and she moved over to the fridge and peered inside. Some bottles of champagne, some condiments, and some thick slabs of ham, mashed potatoes, some peas and carrots all kept in small rectangle containers. There were some eggs, bacon, sausages and something Christine couldn't identify. She closed the fridge and began searching through the cupboards for a glass. She found some other ingredients, some plates and bowls, and then plain glasses, noting he had nothing of especial beauty here, and she was disappointed. She guessed these rooms just weren't used much. He did say that he didn't care to eat or drink. He had even said that he rarely slept, but he was sleeping _now_. She took a glass, and began to fill it with water. Christine couldn't imagine not wanting to eat or sleep. She enjoyed doing both. Christine took a few sips, and looked around. Erik must not have found any joy in either act. She looked at the blinds in front of the three large windows. There was nothing that stood out to her in the large, empty room. It was weird, why would Erik choose to live like this, she questioned. Her kitchen back home had been painted bright, cheery colours, with photos, paintings, stickers, posters adorning the walls, and her flat was cluttered with all of her fan's artwork and creations, as well as old props, such as the paper mache planets, or the poster she had made with all of her fan's signatures that occasionally showed up in the background, whenever it was sent back to her. She had taken a large red sheet of paper, and signed her name in the middle with a big black marker. She had then posted it to one of her fans, who was then to sign it herself and send it on to someone else. It had been a fun project, and she enjoyed each video of her follower's responses. Not it resided in her home. It was amazing to live in and she could never be tired or bored in her home.

She looked over to a lock on the wall and saw it read 7:23am. She wondered if Erik would like something to eat, and she looked through the fridge again. She saw the eggs and milk, and pulled them out. She looked around for the other ingredients, as well as mixing bowls and wooden spoons as she set about making muffins. She found his stash of fresh fruit in a refrigerated drawer, and some chocolate and seeds and nuts and grains in a drawer as well, and she took her time as she made her special muffins, which she was allowed to sell at the cafe. She began to pound the flour, oats, sugar, salt and the other ingredients. She created a small well, and poured in mashed bananas, eggs and milk, and continued to mix the ingredients together until it was time to pour the mixture into the cases. Christine froze, realizing the flaw in her plan. He had no muffin cases, or anything that could be used instead. She placed the mixing down down and searched the cupboards for a baking tin she could use, and got some tin foil as well to line the base with. She poured the mixture into the baking tin, and hoped that they muffin mixture would make good brownies, though she was doubtful. She left the tin in the preheated oven and began to clean up the kitchen. She had 45 minutes, so she wandered back into the living room, her eyes glued to Erik's mask as she went over and sat by the Koin pond. It was beautiful this morning, and Christine reached into the reeds to pull out their food, and began to feed the orange black and white fish. When she had finished, she spent the rest of the time waiting as she kneeled beside Erik's sleeping form. She played with her phone, staring at their photo together. Christine wasn't sure how it would compare to her pillow of him, but it was still a lovely gift for her to hold onto. Chrisinte would look up at Erik as he slept, feeling very content. She hoped he was having lovely dreams.

She had set the alarm to ding a few minutes before they needed to be pulled out, and Christine jumped when it went off. Erik didn't stir, and Christine gracefully rose up to turn the alarm off. She left a trail of kisses from his temple down to his cheek, and left, stroking the lips of the mask as she left his side regretfully. She got together the chocolate, the clear mixing bowl, and an empty pan. She filled the pan with water, and placed the large mixing bowl over the pan, breaking up pieces of chocolates as the water heated up quickly. She grabbed the wooden spoon she had just cleaned, and began to stir the chocolate as it began to melt.

"Christine?"

Christine looked up cheerily. "Good morning, Erik! I'm making us breakfast." She said, turning away to focus on the bubbling chocolate.

"Breakfast?" Erik asked, watching her from the doorway, hesitant to approach her.

"Yes. I had planned on some nice healthy muffins, but they're sort of going to be brownies now, I think. Do you mind? I'll clean up afterwards."

Erik stiffly nodded. "Yes, Christine."

"I've made enough for both of us. You can eat them when you like." She said.

"Christine, last night-"

"I know." Christine said, smiling. "It was nice, wasn't it?"

She turned to look at him. "Did you sleep okay?"

He was standing so still that Christine could have figured he _was_ a statue. He had put his gloves back on, much to her disapproval. "Yes, Christine."

Christine frowned as she turned off the stove, letting the chocolate cool slightly, and checked the muffin brownie mix. It looked alright. She pulled it out and tested it with her finger. It seemed soft and spongy, and the smell of bananas wafted across the room. She let the mixture rest once she got it out of the tin, and turned to Erik.

"Can I have a hug? Or even a 'Good morning, Christine'?" She asked, smiling.

Erik struggled to hold himself back. "Christine, I must ask for your forgiveness."

"For what?" She asked.

Erik looked towards the muffin brownies. "I put you in my room last night."

Christine laughed. "Oh Erik, that was perfectly fine, a noble thing to do in fact."

She was trying to comfort him, but something still didn't sit right with him. "Do I have your forgiveness then?" He asked distractedly.

"Yes, though you do not need it. Erik, I am your girlfriend, you are allowed to carry me to bed if I'm asleep. I'm sorry you had to carry me, that's all."

Erik looked stricken, his muscles tensing up as he stroked his mask in one sweep over his head. "That's perfectly alright Christine. I enjoyed carrying you."

Something in his words suggested there was more to the story he was telling. Christine trusted him though. He was a perfect gentleman, and besides, he was probably too shy to do anything too forward.

"Great. Do you wanna help me make these?" Christine said, stirring the chocolate to keep it warm. "I think they're just about done."

"Sure." He said, stepped forward.

"Good. You can cut the brownies, and then I'll use a spoon to ladle some chocolate on them." Christine said, taking his hand.

Erik only watched as Christine's hand covered his, and she squeezed it reassuringly.

"And you still haven't said 'Good Morning'." She said, pouting.

"Good morning, my ... Christine." Erik said, though he hastily corrected himself.

"Good morning, my Erik." She returned, and brought his hand to her face, and kiss his gloved knuckles with as much love as she could muster.

Erik sighed and began to do as he was told, and something in Erik told Christine that he had awoken a very different man.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	29. Chapter 29

**_Pink's 'Glitter in the Air'_**

_Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?  
Closed your eyes and trust it, just trust it?  
Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?_  
_Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, "I just don't care."_

_It's only half past the point of no return,_  
_The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn._  
_The thunder before the lightning and the breath before the phrase,_  
_"Have you ever felt this way?"_

_Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?_  
_Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone_  
_Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?_  
_Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?_

_It's only half past the point of oblivion_  
_The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run_  
_The breath before the kiss, and the fear before the flames_  
_Have you ever felt this way?_

* * *

Erik had been awake from the very beginning, when Christine first silently entered the living room, wearing the despicable black dress that tormented him with promises of unending nights, and she was walking around barefoot. He didn't dare move, and she stood still too, watching him. Her hair cascaded over one shoulder, her light blue eyes turned on him, and Erik wondered if he ought to get up and say something. Her movements in the bathroom had originally woken him, but her immediate presence now was like a shot in the arm. Erik felt groggy, however, and it felt sinful to even look at Christine after last night's events. Did Christine know? Was that why she was watching?

Christine made the first move, and Erik chose to play the possum as Christine approached him, her body lightly curving to one side as she walked around the coffee table and kneeled beside him. Her eyes danced over his mask, looking very serene as Erik openly watched her. She must have thought he was still asleep. She looked down at his hands, and her expression didn't change. She did yawn however, and after leaving a kiss just above the mask's eyebrow, she left him to enter the kitchen, after picking his gloves from the floor to put them on the table, and picked up the coffee from the night before. Erik listened with a lively heart as her footsteps paused at the kitchen door, and then faded into the kitchen.

Erik couldn't move. Every instinct was screaming at him to run, to hide, to fight, and to take. It was a cruel twist of fate to have given Erik such a beastly disposition in front of sweet Christine. He couldn't even look at her with his own eyes, and he had been too cowardly to say anything to her. Erik clenched his fists with the thought of her bare thigh as she had laid in his bed. She had been completely vulnerable, and he had taken advantage of that.

Erik hated himself, and knew he deserved punishment, but as he listened to Christine open his fridge and look through his cupboards, Erik questioned whether or not Christine had felt him. Had it affected her dreams? Did she dream of him the way he dreamed of her?

_Her dreams would never have you. They'd never take you. She'd never want you there._

Erik lay in agony, listening to Christine's every step, every yawn, and wondered what she was doing. She was probably making herself something to eat, though Erik wasn't sure if he had anything that might please her. Before Christine left for England, he would have to buy her some things, and Erik's mind raced with all the sorts of foods he could feed her, and he indulged himself with the thought of her dressed in fine clothes and beautiful jewellery and more importantly, she would thank him for it, giving him more praise and more free touches.

_You fool! You think you deserve to touch her after last night! If she knew, she would be upset_. _Her kisses are innocent, and you want more?_

Erik wanted to tear the voices from his head, they were such distractions, but he knew he should listen to them. They were right. They had always been right, and had served him in his most desperate times, saving his life in dark situations, but now that the situation was pleasant, and unharmful, the voices only whispered dark, horrible secrets to him. Erik tried to quiet the voices as Christine reemerged, looking more awake. She went to kneel beside the Koi pond, reaching into the reeds as he had shown her, and began to feed the Koi. Erik turned his head slightly so he could see her better. Her back was to him, her ringlets bouncing as she tilted her head to one side. She was crouched on the balls of her feet, and Erik bit his lip.

She stood up, giving him one quick glance before she looked back into the kitchen, and went on the hunt for her purse. She found it, kicked off the couch by Erik, and began searching for something. She found her phone, and Erik felt as though he had been stabbed directly in the heart. She was going to try and take more pictures of him. Or worse, what if she tried to remove his mask? A thousand rampant thoughts flew through his head like winged horses, but before he could do or say anything, she crawled back to sit beside his head, and switched her phone on, where Erik could see their photo from the night before on her phone's wallpaper. She stared at it, smiling as she traced her thumb over Erik's mask. Erik's heart leapt as she chuckled to herself.

_I cherish you too. _Erik thought, addressing the fair haired girl, who was now focused on checking her messages as she waited for something. She was waiting for him to wake up.

_You depraved animal. You encourage her feelings for you?_ The voice questioned incredulously as some of Christine's hair fell against his bare hands.

_Yes, a million times yes. If I could have her, I would be very happy. I would have myself a living, breathing companion. _Erik thought without resistance, watching Christine's body rise and fall with each breath she took.

_You are an old man, and you will die before that happens._

Erik couldn't argue with that. It was true, he _was_ an old man, compared to Christine. She should have been dating young, hip boys, but instead she had chained herself to Erik, tying them together with red string.

_Then I shall enjoy every second while I can._

Christine sniffed, and looked at him, smiling as her eyes traced his curls, but frowned when she saw something. Christine reached up with her thumb and licked it, with Erik watching in morbid curiosity as he wished he had been that thumb. Erik had frozen though as Christine's hand began to approach his mask, and every thought flew out of his head as her wet thumb pressed against his temple, and rubbed in a strange, unfamiliar pattern.

_What is she doing?_ Erik asked the voice, blinking as he watched Christine's face scrunch up in thought.

_She is cleaning the mask. Let her do it._ It replied, sounding rather unsure of itself.

Erik's eyes followed her every action, his eyes drawn to her lips, but she soon pulled away, returning back to her phone as she began to scroll down some page.

_She isn't afraid of my mask. She kisses it and cleans it like a good girl_. Erik thought in confusion as she propped her chin up on her knuckles, her elbow resting on her knee. _She wasn't afraid of my hands either. What is she?_

A bell went off somewhere, and Erik knew it had something to do with the kitchen. He hadn't heard the sound before, but Erik reasoned that it was must have been the oven, which made him very curious as to what Christine had been doing in there. Christine had jumped out of shock, her hair rippling as she took a calming breath. Her eyes widened however, and she worriedly looked at him, to see if the bell had awoken him. Erik chose to stay still. He was still trying to figure her out, how he had the luck to be with her, how to keep Carlotta away from her, and whether or not he would have to keep himself away from her, when she stood on her feet and did something that almost made him grab her and devour her. She had left dozens of quick little kisses along his mask, each one making Erik feel very lightheaded, and she wiped away any smudges she saw, carefully so as to not wake him, and her thumb just skimmed the mask's lips from one side to the other, in a slow, deliberate way as she walked away.

It had sent the most delightful shivers down Erik's back, and as she walked away, Erik turned in his place so he could watch her leave, his eyes peeking just above the back of the couch as she left the room. His eyes had drifted down her back, and the way the light hit her reminded Erik of the first night he had met her. Erik sat up, slowly, and kept his eyes on the door. That was three times her thoughts had consisted of his lips. The first time, it had been an unconscious thought, and Erik remembered the way her eyes had drifted to his lips as she bit her own in her hotel room. The second time, she had dared to kiss him on the corner of the mask's lips. Now, she was comfortable touching those lips, now that she thought he was asleep. Erik panicked, shifting in his seat as Christine continued to make a lot of noise around the kitchen. Erik looked down at his skeletal fingers, with its ridges and cracks, its bruises leering at him as mocking blue-grey veins darted across his skin.

_Does she think of me when she's alone? Does she wonder about these hands? Does ugly, misshapen Erik please her? _Erik marveled. Was it possible then, then Christine wanted to kiss him for real...

No, it would never happen. He wouldn't let it. She was never going to see his face and that was it. Didn't she know that? Didn't she know that they could never have a close relationship? Was she naive, or gullible, or did she _truly_ trust him without a doubt? She was a wide-eyed child, and Erik could not keep her from the truth. She needed to know everything. They needed to clear the air. They could hold each other, and play silly games, but in the end, he would never be able to satisfy her without tricking her with his voice. That was the true torture, Erik thought as he stood up, straightening out his suit, as he seethed beneath his mask, his teeth grinding together, champing as he pulled on the forgotten gloves. No doubt they would be hot and tight against his hands, now they had gotten some air.

He walked with purpose as he entered the kitchen, and found Christine standing over a large mixing bowl which had been placed on top of a pot, stirring some gloopy looking chocolate around. She looked enchanting, and completely at home, like a dutiful little wife. Erik could pretend, almost.

He called her name, and she turned around, her hair flying about as she wished him a good morning, and told him that she was making them both breakfast. Erik's chest had tightened. She went on to say that she had planned on muffins, but they had turned into brownies somehow, which she didn't explain. She told him he could save his for later, and Erik was grateful that this time, she chose to let him handle his eating habits. Her blue eyes hit him again, and Erik almost took a step back, reeling as the faint scent of honey from her warm skin reached him. There was a new scent, and it hit him that the smell had been his own bed. Seeing Christine's unprotected body in his head reminded him of his mission. To confess and hope for forgiveness.

He had begun well enough, but she had jumped in while he had been pausing for breath, and told him she had enjoyed their night together. Her knowing smile and her shy looks at him made Erik think that she knew about his little indiscretion towards her. His face was contorted with horror as she continued stirring, sticking her finger in occasionally to test the temperature of the slowly melting chocolate, and then licked it off. Erik was enjoying it, but he shamefully berated himself as Christine continued talking, asking him if he slept well.

He hadn't, but he wasn't going to tell her. He wanted to know if Christine would admit to knowing he had done such a terrible thing to her.

_Unless she enjoyed it._ The voice suggested, tauntingly.

Erik began to see Christine in a new light as she pulled out a large, flat tin from out of the oven, where a brown, spongy mix, sprinkled with oats began to cool, and Erik could smell something sweet, with a hint of bananas. It didn't help to clear his head, as the scent of honey, mango and bananas reached his nostrils. Her voice turned impish as her attention became fully focused on him, smiling as she told him he hadn't even hugged her yet, or wished her a good morning. Her words made Erik feel worse, and he forced the words out, begging for her forgiveness before he was forced to admit it. His eyes had been lowered, but they looked up now to see Christine's confused face. She looked genuinely lost, and Erik mentally threw up his arms in exultation as he realized she didn't know! She truly didn't!

Erik knew he was treading on thin ice here as he told her that his indiscretion had been carrying her into his room. He had enjoyed carrying her, but he saw no sin in it, compared to what had followed afterwards. Christine laughed it off, and told him he had been _noble_. The word had been like daggers to Erik, and still, he felt he needed her forgiveness. If she would only forgive him, thinking that was the worst of her worries, then Erik could pretend that everything was alright between them. He still needed to talk to her about Carlotta, about them, about their future, and it was all beginning to be too much for Erik to handle. Everything seemed so secure, but Erik knew that anything could break them apart. She comforted him, using that word '_girlfriend_' again, and asked him to join her in finished off the brownies. Erik had agreed, stepping up lightly before her.

Erik was happy to play house with Christine. It would only be more fuel for his dreams, and more torture for his nightmares, and he watched as Christine's hand covered his gloved one, giving it a gentle squeeze. She reminded him again that he still hadn't wished her good morning, and he returned the offering, stumbling over his words like an idiot. It only made Christine smile more, as she copied his way of talking, like she had back up outside her hotel room. Erik had called himself in third person, and it had amused her, of all things.

"Did you sleep well, Christine?" Erik had tried to ask casually as she chose a knife to cut the brownies. He chose not to look at her.

"As well as can be expected." Christie said, placing the chocolate back over the pan.

"Did you dream?" He asked, his hands beginning to feel very sore as they rubbed against the gloves, getting ever hotter.

"Yes, I did." Christine said, smiling. "At least, I know I dreamt something, it just seems really unclear to me right now. I know it had something to do with you though."

Erik looked up, straightening himself as he had been bent over the brownies. "_Me_?" He croaked.

"Yes, you." Christine said, looking over her shoulder to grin at him. "It wasn't a bad dream. It was good. I know that."

Erik didn't want to say anything. If he did, he knew he would only end up telling her about his sinful nature. Christine turned around, the mixing bowl cradled in her arms once more.

"Do you need an apron, Christine? I don't want you to get any chocolate on your dress." Erik asked as Christine stirred the chocolate, watching him as he finished off cutting the brownies into precise, calculated pieces.

"No, I just need that spoon." Christine said, nodding towards a little tea spoon that was hiding behind a checkered tea towel.

"Alright." Erik put down the knife, blade pointed away from Christine, at a right angle, and handed her the spoon.

She took it from him, and dipped it into the bubbling lava of melted chocolate. She gathered some up, as she moved with the bowl so she could place it down, and carefully drizzled a thin line of chocolate over some of the brownies, whipping the spoon back and forth to create zigzags and spirals. Christine laughed, having fun, and she suddenly looked up at him.

"Do you want a go?" She asked, her eyes crinkled as she smiled to him, holding the spoon out.

"No, Christine, you may do the rest if it pleases you." He told her.

"Well, how about I make you a special brownie? One just for you." Christine said with a grin, gathering more chocolate onto her spoon.

"I thought that these were ours, what would make this brownie you tease me with mine?" Erik chuckled, enjoying the teasing side of Christine.

"I would sign it with your name. So I can't touch it. And neither will Nadir when he comes around later." Christine said, looking at the untouched brownies with a determined pout.

She picked one at last, to Erik's amusement, and lifted it up to her face, cradling the brownie in her hand as she began to carefully, but quickly scrawl his name across the large, flat brownie. She started with a large, loopy E, and followed by the rest of the letters in his name in a smaller, cursive font. She got a bit carried away though, and some of the hot chocolate spilled onto her hand, which began to seep onto her palm. Christine stopped, pulling the spoon away, little drops of chocolate dropping on her palm. The hot chocolate must have surprised her, as her hand had twitched in response, and Erik quickly removed the brownie and the spoon from her hands, and turned back with a tea towel in hand as she caught Christine already licking off the chocolate on the side of her hand.

"Christine." He sighed, smiling as he took her hand, his fingers brushing her cheek, and bought it down to lie palm up between them. Erik began to clean her hand, even though most of the chocolate was gone already.

"Sorry." She said, blushing as she avoided his gaze.

Christine was watching his hands, while Erik's eyes were entirely upon her glorious face, the remarkable pink flush enticing him as she began to lick her lips _slowly. _Erik dropped the towel, and picked up one of the brownies she had already spooned chocolate onto, holding it up close to her face, antagonisingly close to her lips. Christine's eyes flickered after the towel, and then returned to the brownie. She looked up, surprised, and locked eyes with him, trying to understand what he was conveying, and he took her hand, stroking it with as much warmth as he could muster for her.

She blinked, and stared at the brownie again. Something must have clicked, as she pulled a devilish grin, curiously looking up at him. Erik was sweating now, feeling more self-conscious by the second. He began to pull his hand away, but Christine stopped him, taking his wrist, and pushed her thumb up underneath his glove, pressing her skin to his, and leaned forward, taking a bite of the brownie as she held him in place. Not that he could have moved if he wanted to. Her lips were puffed out, to stop any crumbs from falling so she could take a clean bite, and they slid over the brownies, causing the chocolate to smudge over her lips, and she pulled away, pleased with herself as she began to lick her lips.

Erik had never been more thrilled in his life. She way she had held him, her thumb pressed against the bottom of his palm, her fingers curled around the back of his hand, and the way she had closed her eyes, eyelashes trembling. It had nearly set Erik aflame when Christine pulled her hand away from his wrist, wiping off the chocolate from around her lips with the thumb that she had pinned to him, to then lick that off. Erik had to hold on to the counter to hold himself up, and Christine meekly said,

"Can I get that hug now?"

Erik laughed, grabbing her roughly and pulled her to his chest, dropping the brownie, and Christine laughed as he squeezed her entire body, holding her face to his. Perhaps Christine was just as sinful as him.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**I'm also curious, do you guys listen to the songs I have up at the top of each chapter, what do you guys think? **

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	30. Chapter 30

_**Goo Goo Doll's "Iris"**_

_And I'd give up forever to touch you_  
_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow_  
_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be_  
_And I don't wanna go home right now_

_And all I can taste is this moment_  
_And all I can breathe is your life_  
_When sooner or later it's over_  
_I just don't wanna miss you tonight_

_And I don't want the world to see me_  
_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_  
_When everything's made to be broken_  
___I just want you to know who I am_

* * *

The whole morning have just been enchanting for Christine. Making Erik breakfast, feeding the Koi fish, waiting for Erik to wake and leaving sneaky little kisses along his mask, it had all been perfect, just a wonderful way to wake up and start the day, and she wondered if there would be any more days filled with lazy mornings and silly games. Christine watched in bliss as Erik joined her in making the strange brownies she had concocted, once he had awoken and joined her in the kitchen. She wasn't sure the oats made much sense, and the chocolate had been a spur of the moment thing, but Erik seemed pleased enough, despite being a bit withdrawn from her. Christine had also noticed that Erik was quite the practical and logical man, as he carefully cut into the brownies with precision, as though he was an artist, with rulers and pencils, hunched over a drawing. Christine wasn't like that, she was more carefree, and wouldn't have cut them without such deep concentration. She smiled when Erik asked whether she had dreamt anything the night before, and Christine believed that she had, but the details were so fuzzy. She knew there had been something about water, and about Erik, and Christine was vaguely sure that they had been on the yacht, but then she remembered that the water had looked so appealing. It looked very cool, and Christine had been very hot. She didn't want to tell Erik about her dream though, it seemed too personal, too private to share with him.

_I don't know what Erik would make of it. And it's not even that interesting a dream._ Christine thought, gathering chocolate onto her spoon.

Christine began to decorate the brownies by dribbling the hot chocolate from a small teaspoon, creating thin ripples of chocolate as she let loose and went a little crazy with some of them. She felt as hot as the melted chocolate in her hands, and smoothly tried to offer to Erik that he should try and have a go so she could cool down, but he declined, happy to watch her. Christine enthusiastically offered to make him a one of a kind brownie, just for him, hoping that would bring Erik out of whatever mood he was in. She wanted to bring him out of the funk he had awoken to, and Christine felt that maybe she had caused it. Perhaps Erik wasn't happy to see her wandering around his kitchen, or maybe he was waiting for her to finish. Or maybe Christine was just being paranoid, and Erik just wasn't a morning person. Christine was happy when he joined in her game, teasing her as she quickly picked up a brownie before he could refuse.

_I shall do my best for him._ Christine thought poking her tongue between her lips as she concentrated on pouring Erik's name out on the flat brownie, with Erik watching her every move as he took a step closer to her.

Erik looked down into her hands, and Christine tried to make him smile by giving him a very ornate looking 'E'. He said nothing, still staring as Christine carried on, but the hot chocolate spilled onto her palm, and Erik had quickly jumped at the chance to help her, taking everything from her hands. Christine smirked and started to lick the chocolate off. No point in letting it rest, she had thought. It was sweet against her tongue, and the warmth spread throughout her mouth. She looked up at Erik, who had turned to face her, with a towel in his hand, and something about the way he held the towel, towering over her, made her think of something. Something from her dream flickered, and Christine had to grab onto the thought and hold onto it as Erik took her hand and started to clean it. It was something about Erik's hand, something had happened in her dream, that had something to do with Erik's hands. Erik roughly wiped away the chocolate, but Christine was too distracted to notice anything around her as she fought to remember the rest of her dream. She couldn't though, and it was tormenting her as she looked down at her open palm, where Erik's thick gloved hand held hers.

Christine could feel every inch of her skin hum in response to Erik's concern and care, and she felt a sudden urge to run around and throw open all of the windows, as everything seemed so humid and it felt hard to breath. Christine watched as Erik placed the towel slowly down on the countertop, watching her face closely as he held up one of the brownies that she had already painted, and held it close to her face. Christine looked up at him, confused to say the least, but it wasn't until she realized she had been licking her lips that she knew what he was trying to say. Erik took her hand, that had been resting on the countertop, and squeezed it, stroking her thumb with his, and Christine blushed as she tried to pull up the courage to eat the brownie from his hands. She could only grin up at him though.

Erik started to pull away, but Christine quickly grabbed him. She wanted to do it, and she could see it was something that Erik desired too, it was just such a personal statement, it was difficult to just leap in. Christine desperately wanted to know what he was thinking, as he was no doubt intrigued, but also nervous, and she tried to ease him out of his worked up state by taking his hand. Placing her thumb beneath his glove had been a good move, on both their parts, and the air settled between them as Christine was brave enough to try and nibble at the brownie between his fingers. She had put her lips first on to the brownie, the oats and chocolate ripples rubbing against her as she tried to take a clean bite. It tasted good, nice and gooey, with a strong hint of banana and chocolate and Christine pulled away as she tried to lick her lips, vaguely aware that she must have looked stupid, but Erik was transfixed, and having some serious trouble standing by the look of it. She wiped the chocolate away from her face, watching as Erik gripped the counter tightly, his gloved hands looking a lot more strained as his body began to shake.

Christine adored the way he seemed to stumble after her, and over his words, and it made Christine feel very special, and very beautiful, so she knew that asking a for a hug was almost like a finishing blow for Erik. He could not have been more rejoiceful though, as he pulled her into his arms with a lot of force. She almost felt suffocated within his tight embrace, but she was very happy, and laughed as Erik held her cheek to his, breathing heavily, lifting her off her feet with no trouble.

"Every day, Christine. Every day, I shall sing your name to the heavens, and praise them for giving you to me." Erik said calmly, and slowly they eased back onto the floor, still holding onto each other.

Christine hummed in agreement as she buried her face back into his chest. "I would like to hear that, Erik. You must be a wonderful singer."

Erik held her out from him, excitedly. "Would you like to see my music room? I have a beautiful grand piano in there that will-"

Christine smirked, and tilted her head to one side. "Do you want to have something to eat first? I can put on cartoons while you eat in here."

Erik paused, drawn out of his reverie, and watched her. Christine tried to keep a straight face, but his hands on her hips, and the shocked attitude made her want to laugh. She wanted to reach up and tickle him the way she had tickled her last night, and she almost did, but Erik's hands wandered up her back now and she was lost.

"Would Christine wait? Would she wait for Erik?" Erik said, his voice taking on a strange, celestial tone. His hands had found themselves on her cheeks, and Christine almost couldn't reply, as the heat rising to her cheeks felt familiar.

"Yes." She breathed, thinking her heart must have grown wings as something was wildly jumping about, trying to burst out of her chest.

"Christine, will you go wait for me? I shall only be a few minutes." Erik asked, pulling his hands away to hold them close to his chest.

"Yes, Erik." She said duteously, dropping her hands to hold them before her. "But I wish to ask something of you. A favor."

Erik had been looking off into space, but had looked down at her now. "A favor?" He asked, with a bizarre, but happy tone as he held out his hands again to touch her face.

"Yes, please." She asked. "I would not ask a favor, but after last night, I thought you wouldn't mind."

"Anything. _Name it_." He spoke with a dark conviction. It frightened Christine, but it excited her too, and Christine chose her next words carefully.

"I would like it very much if you returned into the living room without your gloves."

Erik's hands leapt away from her face, and Christine moaned. His fingers had been tracing her hairline, but now they hung in the air between them. Erik's stance showed that he was horrified at such a proposal, and he almost looked as though he was shrinking.

"Why would you ask that, Christine? Why would you wish to _continue_ looking at them?" He asked dejectedly.

"You're mistaken. It's not about looking at them, it's about feeling them." Christine said, still staring at his hands. "Through my hair, on my skin, just knowing that you can feel me too, I have to admit, makes me feel ... good."

Christine felt very embarrassed telling him that last part. Christine never had much thought for other women and their own sexual exploits, and Christine usually didn't care, but after years of living alone, sharing her bed with no-one, being so _close_ to someone of the opposite gender was like opening a new door. No, it was more like someone was shoving Christine through the door. She was overcome with all of this strange feelings, and though she knew fully well that Erik had them for her too, it was becoming more apparent that those feelings would never be acted on. They were both highly aware of each other and free to chase those feelings, but the mask was holding them back, and Christine wanted nothing more than to smash the horrid thing between them.

"My hands? Do you think of them that much?" He asked in a strangled voice.

"Yes, I do." Christine said. "You know I like them through my hair."

"I do know that." Erik confirmed. "You would not mind my touching your hair, or your cheeks?"

"No, I would not mind it." Christine said sweetly, his shyness touching her more intimately than his gloveless hands would have. "I would welcome it. So, I will go put something on for us to watch."

"Yes." Erik sighed as she pulled away from him.

Christine rolled his eyes. "I'm only going to be out here for a few minutes, Erik. I just hope you enjoy them."

She stood on her toes, and left a faint kiss on the mask's jawline, and left the kitchen, biting her lip as she wondered whether or not Erik would be watching her leave. Something told her he was.

Christine sat and went on the couch, picking up two remotes from the coffee table, and began switching through most of the channels, trying not to look behind her to see if Erik was watching her. Christine smiled as she came over a channel showing some cartoon that she had watched when she was younger, and tried to watch it, but all she could think of was Erik, sitting in the kitchen, eating her food, and that he would soon be joining her.

Christine suddenly felt nervous. She would be alone with Erik, and it would be some time before Nadir had said he would turn up. Would Erik want her gone by then, to save modesty, or would he wish her to stay? Did he even have anything planned, as Christine definitely didn't. She hoped they would go out somewhere, for as much as she loved Erik's apartment, she still hadn't seen much of New York. It was difficult though, with paparazzi and other people being about. There was nowhere they could go, and Christine was beginning to feel very caged and put on display.

"_Christine_."

Erik's voice had come from the kitchen, so Christine felt safe in turning around to stare at the open door. He had used her tone, and Christine's thoughts of cages and cameras disappeared.

"Erik." She answered, not seeing him.

He stepped out, adjusting the cuff on his white shirt sleeves, looking very dignified as he stood still, waiting for Christine to speak. He was holding a small plate with a few choice brownies placed onto top, no doubt for her so she could continue eating at her leisure.

"Did you enjoy it?" She asked, watching his bare hands twitch nervously.

They looked very red, and very raw. There were still splotches of green and purple, and there was now a thin blue map of interconnecting lines, but Christine winced. His hands were no longer peeling, and Christine wanted very much to comfort him, as he must have been in a lot of pain. Christine fought with the idea that he must have found something to remove the dead skin cells in the kitchen, and scoured it all off with the hope of her not noticing.

"Yes, it was delicious. Thank you, _Christine_." He said, using his voice to distract from from his hands.

Christine closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, unable to control her actions. "I'm glad. I wasn't sure how they turned out, but they tasted really good to me."

She opened her eyes, and saw that Erik was hovering over her, trying to hide his hands behind his back, and Christine frowned. He wasn't moving, and was just watching her. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Do I _really_ need to ask you to sit in your own home?"

"No, Christine. I will sit." He answered, and stepped over her feet so he could sit to her right.

Christine was puzzled. It was usually her sitting on the right, with Erik on the left, but he seemed happy with this new arrangement. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, still trying to hide his hands, and Christine swiftly took them, placing them in her lap as her fingers slipped between his and she casually sat up against him. Erik's hands were cold, and they froze now as Christine lifted both hands to her face to inspect them.

"Are you cold?" She asked, still holding his hands close to her face, stroking them softly as she tried to keep them warm.

"No." Erik said, very clipped. "It's bad circulation."

"Oh." Christine said.

"Should I put my gloves back on?" He asked, staring into his lap.

"No, I was just asking." Christine answered, as she lowered their hands to rest between them.

They sat in silence, as Christine turned back to focus on the screen, though her attention was really on Erik's hands encapsulated by hers. His hands didn't feel the same as last night, she thought. They were much softer, as had never imagined skin could be so soft, but there was a firmness behind it. She tried to be careful with holding them, she didn't want to hurt him, but Erik's hands only jerked about, and she knew then that his hands were still sensitive.

"Erik..."

"Please, Christine. Don't." Erik beseeched, wincing as he removed his hands from hers.

"Its okay, it's okay." Christine soothed, taking his hands gently. "Come here."

She held his shirt cuffs, around his wrists, and brought his hands back over to her face, leaving the softest kiss she could dare on his finger tips. Erik's fingers twitched, but he let her hold his wrists. They watched the cartoons together, and Christine cradled his hands in her lap, holding onto his shirt cuffs tightly as Erik's hands stopped twitching, and relaxed against her dress.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**Ileranerak - I loved your reviews, both of them, so much. It was great just reading them. I think you're so right about the pacing and the layout and such, it is a bit of a problem, methinks. I think that for some chapters it will be mostly just desribing the other persons's point of view of the situation, awith a little extra to keep the reader's interested, which is part of the reason why I upload on the daily basis, I don't want to keep my readers waiting for too long! Thank you so much for reviewing, I loved reading them, they really brought a smile to my face. **

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	31. Chapter 31

**_Dolly Parton's 'Old Flames Can't Hold A Candle To You'_**

_Sometimes at night, I think of old lovers I've known_  
_I remember how holding them helped me not feel so alone_  
_Then I feel you beside me and even their memories are gone_  
_Like stars in the night lost in the sweet light of dawn_

_Old flames can't hold a candle to you_  
_No one can light up the night like you do_  
_Flickering embers of love_  
_I've known one or two_  
_But old flames can't hold a candle to you_  
_Old flames can't hold a candle to you_  
_Mmmm..._

* * *

Erik had never had such a wonderful morning. Every second was filled with laughter and talking and hand holding. Never had his apartment felt so much like a home, before Christine. Her sweet, true nature charmed him at every turn, and he was in heaven. She was his muse, and he knew would never be able to make music without her again. She was so happy, so content, but there had been one thing that had not pleased her. She had noticed that he had gone back to wearing his gloves, and Erik would forever remember the look of sadness and confusion across her face. Christine asked a favor of him, hat he should return into the living room after he had had his fill of Christine's, no, _their_ brownies, without his gloves on. Erik had asked her why she wished to look upon such wretched hands, and she had answered that it was to feel them, not to look at them. She told him it felt _good_.

Clearly a lot of thought had gone into this, as Christine's words replayed in his head, making him dizzy. His hands made her feel good. His cursed hands, that were allowed to touch her loveliness, made the smile that showed on her face as she continued to remind him that he knew she enjoyed his hands through her hair. Oh, but it wouldn't be the same! It would only revolt her if she had seen the way his dead skin knicked against her the night before. But still, to place his hands in amongst her golden curls would be luxurious. He asked her if she was truly alright, and she consented, pulling away to his disappointment, leaving him alone in the kitchen with the still cooling brownies. He had watched her leave, as he would every time without fail, and he had stared around him, struck with a sense of _happiness_. Such an emotion had never once graced him, but now, he would have a week filled with it!

Erik looked down at the brownies, after checking to see if Christine was securely in her seat. He had stood facing away from the door, and reached up to the front of the mask. He pushed his fingers underneath the mask, up against his throat, so he could press a quick release button, which would spilt the mask into two halves. The back of the mask had easily slipped off, but the front was stuck to the mounds of flesh he called his cheeks from all of the tears and sweat from the whole evening. Erik slowly had to peel the mask away from his face, but he tore it off straight away once the smell of Christine's brownies hit him more clearly, now that the mask had been removed.

Erik stood silently, closing his eyes as he thought of Christine in the next room. She was so close, and he had been so exposed. The fresh air hitting his face was cooling, and Erik took a breath before choosing a brownie. He took a bite, munching on it as he thought of Christine. It was good, but he wasn't sure about the oats. Not that he could taste them, it just provided a strange texture in his mouth. The chocolate was good, as was the banana, and Erik happily finished it, taking another as he began to eat it. Halfway through the second, he stared upon the brownie he had taken from Christine. His name had been smudged by his clumsy hands when he took it, and Erik picked it up, staring at it intently. It seemed that nothing good for him would ever last. He still placed it in a plastic tupperware box and put it in the fridge though. He would be able to keep it for a little while longer.

He would hold onto Christine though. He wouldn't let her slip through his fingers. The thought of his fingers brought her request to mind, and Erik carefully pulled the gloves off, stuffing them into his pocket. If Christine wanted his hand to to be bare, then he would do it, but Erik still felt the shame of having such ugly hands. He looked around. There had to be something that would make his hands more bearable for her. His eyes landed on the pots and pans and cutlery Christine had left in the sink, and he slowly walked towards it. Erik uncuffed his sleeves, pushing them back up to his elbows, and he ignored the rest of his skin. It was only more hideousness to hide from Christine. Erik picked up a small wire scrubber, and winced as he held his hands over the sink. It was for the good of Christine he told himself over and over as he furiously scrubbed the dead skin away, trying to keep from crying out. It would make her love him more, he told himself in the foggy place where his mind went to. He deserved the pain, other voices told him, but thankfully the searing hot pain kept him focused on his task, and he took a few controlled breaths before he looked down to the red, raw trembling hands. He dropped the wire brush and held his hands up in horror as the accursed things began to throb and become sensitive, as though he been burned. He wanted to throw on his gloves again, but seeing Christine's unhappy face was not something that Erik wanted to see. He gathered some brownies onto a plate for Christine, hoping she would be distracted by eating her delicious creations, that she wouldn't notice the mess he had made of himself. And as for now, the plate managed to hide the most of the smoking wreck.

Erik had called her name, hoping to put her in a good mood before she saw the ruined state of his hands. What had he been thinking? She would laugh at him, and she would make fun of him, stomping on Erik's heart as though he was an ant, but once she called back with his name, to assure him she was away from the door, those thoughts left as he stepped out to see her. Her angelic face was turned towards him, and her eyes flew to his hands, but didn't stay there very long as she asked him if he had enjoyed the brownies. He told her he did, aware that some recognition had flickered in her expression that suggested she knew what he had done.

_Oh, Christine. Do not judge a demon for wanting to be an angel_. He thought as Christine closed her eyes to the sound of his voice. _I would suffer a thousand times for you, Christine._

Erik had found himself sitting beside her, placing the forgotten brownies down on the coffee table, and Christine had taken his hands. He tried to hold back the pain he was feeling as she tried to comfort him. Christine was trying to help him, but his burning hands felt as though they would only make Christine melt away from him. She held them up, seeing clearly how he looked in the sunlight, but held no fear as Christine soon returned to watching the television, which Erik hadn't even been aware was on, he had been enraptured by Christine's goodwill. Christine sighed, looking sad as she was about to tell Erik something, concerning his hands, but Erik had stopped her. There was no need for him to hear from her lips what a fool he had been. She had consoled him, cooing to him as though he was a little boy, and Erik's heart skipped a beat as he imagined what his life would have been like if Christine had raised him. No doubt she would have made a wonderful mother, but would she have been if she had been confronted with _him_?

Christine laid their hands in her lap, watching the TV, and Erik happily watched it with her, trying to understand the cartoons she had put on for him. There was a rabbit dressed like a Valkyrie, riding a ridiculously large horse. Erik recognized the music, it was the "Pilgrims' Chorus" theme from _Tannhäuser._ Erik wasn't sure if he liked it, it didn't seem to be putting opera in a good light. Christine was laughing though, chuckling as the rabbit was soon joined by a bald hunter.

"Christine, what are we watching?" He asked, looking down at her slightly.

"Looney Toons, Erik. You haven't seen it before?" Christine asked, looking up at him. "It's really good, I used to watch it every Saturday morning with ..."

Christine paused, her eyes flitting towards her phone on the coffee table. "Oh God, I forgot about Raoul. I really should listen to his voicemail. I hope he phoned to congratulate us. I'll put it on speakerphone so you can hear it too."

Christine placed Erik's hands back into his own lap, and picked up her phone, muting the television. Erik watched her miserably, clenching his teeth as he listened into the boy's message. He knew that Raoul was Christine's friend back home, and he kept silent as she held the phone up between them. His voice rang in Erik's ears, and Christine's face was a mix of emotions as they both listened to the absurdly pathetic message the boy had left her.

"Er, hi Christine, it's Raoul. I know you've only been gone a few days, but I wanted to see how you were doing. Everyone's been seeing you in the newspaper, but I guess you must already know that, right? Eddie's overjoyed, and the girls are freaking out that you get to meet celebrities, though Samantha can't stop making fun of the way you fell on that guy. Um, I mean, your boyfriend."

The boy paused, and Christine looked happy, her mouth held in a sweet smile, looking as though she wanted to question this Raoul and ask him about home. Erik would have liked to ask him a few questions too. His voice was irritatingly relieving, but Erik smirked darkly. There was no chance for this boy, Erik's voice was supreme, reigning over all, and soon, Christine's voice would join his amongst the heavens.

"So, now that you two are... Dating, I guess you must be with him now. Which is why I'm leaving a message rather than just talking with you."

The boy was pathetic, but Christine just rolled her eyes. "He's never been good on the phone."

"We miss you." Raoul spoke again, and Erik leaned back in his seat, not liking this boy in the least. Could he not leave Christine alone? Couldn't he see that Christine was happy? And busy? "Bright Idea hasn't been the same since you left, but you're coming back, aren't you? Maybe we should have a party to celebrate your coming back."

Erik frowned, but forgot himself as Raoul continued. "Listen, Christine, I know that we briefly dated, and it didn't work out, but I feel like I'm responsible for you. I should have gone with you. I just hope that Erik Destler is treating you like you deserve to be treated. I don't want to see you get hurt because of what some rich, snobby jerk does, okay? Just be careful, please?"

The message ended, and Christine looked up at him, holding her breath. Erik was struggling to breath. Had _Raoul_ been the one she had spoken of? She told him he was her best friend! And how dare the foul little worm even hint that Erik was less than honorable towards Christine! Surely Christine could see he was not the way the boy was trying to paint him.

_Yes, she called you honorable, didn't she? But you know the truth. She hides the truth from you as well. She is a Viper! Delilah! Vixen! Temptress!_ The demon in him chorused, and Erik felt himself pulling away from Christine, breathing haggardly.

She spoke of someone who she had thought would be serious about dating her. Someone she had been friends with. This coward must have been the young gent Christine had spoken of. No, someone she claimed she was _best_ friends with, like a child. Why would she continue to keep around such a louse! It was obvious from the tone of his voice that he was still enamored with Christine. Was she aware? Did she know _Raoul_ held feelings for her? Or was this a trick? What if everything she had done had been nothing but tricks, lies and deceit?

"Erik, please, tell me what you are thinking." Christine asked, placing her hands over Erik's.

"Y-You dated him." Erik stammered out, the feel of her soft, warm hands against his cold skin blocking out any rational thought.

"Yes, it's true. He was who I spoke of before." Christine said, dropping her head slightly. "And you're scared that he's going to keep me away from you."

Erik found he could ignore the pain in his hands when he thought of Raoul. He would be handsome, and charming, and he would make Christine see sense, and realize who Erik really was. "Yes, Christine. I am afraid of him."

Christine looked up with a pained expression. "Oh, _Erik_."

"Christine, do you still feel anything for this boy?" He asked desperately, clasping her hands. "Anything at all?"

She sat up, looking hurt as she said, "Erik, do you think I give my heart so _freely_? How can you even _suspect_ that my heart is unfaithful? I know that we entered this relationship so quickly, but everyone can see how perfect we are together."

"Christine, _forgive_ me. Your Erik knows how much you adore him." He said remembering the way she had stroked the photo on her phone.

"_No_, Erik, it is much more than that. I do not know what it is. It is new to me, Erik. I have never needed a man in my life, apart from my father. It is true, I have dated other men, but I have told you that they were nothing. Nothing compared to you."

Christine leaned forward. "I have never been happier in my entire life, Erik. And it is because of you. I feel as though I was meant to meet you. And you feel the same way, I'm sure of it."

"Yes." Erik croaked weakly.

"Then please, know that there is nothing to be afraid of. He will not take me away from you, and there is not a person alive who could. The past is the past, Erik. I know you're afraid, but it's good we're talking about it." She said, and took a deep breath. "But I think the air definitely needs clearing concerning Carlotta."

Erik groaned, releasing her hands so he could bury his face in his hands. This morning was getting progressively worse, and they were coming awfully close to spilling more secrets that _should not_ be discussed. Damn Carlotta and damn Raoul! The pair of them would make a wonderful couple! How many more stones in their path would they run into?

"I want the truth, Erik. I shall know if you are lying to me." She said, her voice quiet after she turned in her seat to face him.

"Christine, please, not this." He said, believing her when she said she would know. Carlotta would have told her all sorts of wicked stories, and the look on Christine's face back in the elevator with Carlotta only confirmed this theory.

"Erik, please. I must know. I have heard so many people's opinions on what happened, but I have yet to hear yours. Please."

Erik took a breath. And he took another. He wasn't ready. _She_ wasn't ready. But he would do his best to tell her the truth. "We met five years ago. She was a promising star, and I was the recluse musical genius. She approached me at a gala, and she was so beautiful, and she kept flirting with me, touching me intimately, and I couldn't help it, Christine, but I gave in to human instinct. I wanted to pretend. I wanted to keep some memory of a woman smiling in my presence, just for me. So I invited her here to offer breathing lessons to help improve her voice. She wasn't too impressed, but she came willingly."

Christine turned away, scrunching her eyes up. "Keep going." She whispered.

"_Christine_..." Erik whispered back to her, feeling his eyes tear up.

"Keep _going_." She said with a little more force, and turned to look at him, looking very serious. "You two slept together."

"No, my dear, we did not! _We did not!_" Erik protested. "She ... She _had_ to leave."

"Why?" Christine asked, her eyes narrowed as fixed on the mask's pupils.

"Christine, _please_-" Erik cried. He could not tell her. He could not tell her that he had almost killed Carlotta for touching his mask. Christine would never trust him again, and she would go running back to her boy's arms. Everything was falling apart.

"Why?" She pressed again. "Why did you send her away, Erik? What did she do to anger you?"

Erik watched her. Any happy expression that had once been on her face was gone, forever. He would never see her smile again if he told her the truth. He would have to lie to her. It was for them, Erik told himself, finding the lie slipped easily from his putrid lips.

"She left because she thought I would bed her. I did not, Christine. I did _not_."

"Erik, please. I know there's more to it than that." Christine said, and she leaned in. "Erik? Did she do something? Something you didn't _like_?"

Flashes of Carlotta's scream, twisted face appeared in Erik's mind, and he stayed silent, pulling away from Christine as he found his hands felt a powerful need to hold her face.

"Erik? Please answer me. _Please_." She begged.

Erik sighed. "She ... She tried to remove ..."

Christine was silent. Erik couldn't bear to look at her, and he stared into his lap, feeling like a small child as he couldn't even finish the one sentence. There was no hope for them now. It had been broken. Their little fantasy world where nothing could go wrong had come to an end.

"Your mask?" She asked softly, tucking her hands away from Erik's sight.

Erik stayed silent, begging her to not ask any more about it. She would want to know everything, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to stop himself from telling her. She would be doubly curious now, and for good reason. But Christine laid her hand on his back, and he could feel the heat seeping through his shirt.

"It's okay Erik. We don't have to talk about this anymore." She said, taking his shoulder as she rested her cheek against it. "I won't ask any more."

She began to rub his back with her other hand, in a soothing motion, up and down his back, and Erik relaxed into his seat. He had gotten away with it. Christine believed his words. Erik felt very poor indeed at the idea of lying to her, but he would not let Carlotta drive her away from him. He would tell her, Erik decided, in time, but for now, while their relationship was still new, he would say nothing.

"I will not let her hurt you, Christine." He vowed.

"Erik, I know you're angry with her, but you must forgive her." Christine said. "Whatever happened has hurt her too. You can see it on her face that she regrets that night. I know she was rude, and a bit scary if I do say so myself, but the pain and anger will never pass unless you let it go. "

_Oh yes, she regrets that night indeed. How true your words are, Christine. If only it was only me who was the angry party. I would forgive her this very second and hope never to see her again, but alas! Her hatred and fury will consume us both unless I do something about it._ Erik thought, as Christine sadly took his hand with one of hers, the other upon his back, still rubbing his sore, tired back, and kissed his raw hand with a sweetness that he had come to know as Christine's natural disposition. She was so good, seeing only the best in everything, but Erik knew, that if he didn't put a leash on Carlotta, then she would bite him, and possibly Christine as well.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

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**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	32. Chapter 32

**_Hearts' 'How Can I Refuse?'_**

_Wake me up with laughter_  
_Wrap me in your arms_  
_This ain't no morning after_  
_Never been so far_

_It didn't take so long_  
_For us to feel this way_  
_Can a good thing last_  
_Longer than a day?_

_Where do we take it now_  
_Now that we caught fire?_  
_Will something greater grow_  
_Out of this desire?_

_Should I drop my guard_  
_At the risk of being used?_  
_But the way you do those things to me_  
_How can I refuse?_

_I could get addicted_  
_To your energy_  
_The way you take me over_  
_Pulling on me_

_Our hearts beat together_  
_Our timing is the same_  
_Can I trust my feelings_  
_Save myself the pain?_

* * *

Christine had hoped that Raoul's message would have been filled with praises and congratulations for both herself and Erik, but she had found that Raoul was concerned for her safety with a stranger. Christine was touched that Raoul was looking out for her, but Christine could handle herself, and she knew what she was doing. Or she felt that she did, up until Erik listened to Raoul's voicemail message. Christine felt happy listening to Raoul talk of home, and she had hoped that Erik would see how nice Raoul was. But Erik was not amused. Especially when Raoul announced that they had dated some time ago, something that Christine had hoped to bring up in her own time. She had briefly mentioned Raoul back in her hotel room, without directly mentioning him, and Erik had begged her to tell him about the 'mystery man'. It had made her see how fragile Erik was, and how delicately he needed to be held. She knew that Erik wouldn't have easily accepted Raoul, for several reasons, all of them inspired by jealousy, and she had hoped that she could inspire friendship between them first before Erik could connect the dots and accuse her of terrible things.

Erik had leaned away from her, though burned by her touch, and Christine felt her breath catch in her throat. Erik wasn't talking, his hands clenched as though he was squeezing something. Christine wanted to comfort him, but Erik seemed so closed off now. He must have been thinking horrible things, and her silence didn't help as she held her breath. She had asked him what he was thinking and Erik's first words were to verify whether or not Raoul's words were true. She confirmed it, and Erik deflated a little. Erik admitted he was scared of Raoul in a small voice, and Christine almost couldn't believe it. Erik, the powerful, strong, mesmerizing man that he was was scared of young man a thousand miles away in a different country whom he had never met before.

Erik asked her if she felt anything for Raoul, and Christine had sat up, feeling hurt. She did not have feelings for Raoul, as every feeling, good or bad, was now connected to Erik, like as though they were strings. Yes, strings, and Erik had control of every one of those strings, like a puppet master. Every time he plucked one, Christine would feel immense sadness, or happiness, and her whole body would yearn to sing for him. Singing had been the one thing she loved above all else, and no-one had even come close to making Christine want to sing until she burst. Her father, God rest his soul, would not have wanted her to stop singing, it had been his greatest joy to listen to his only daughter sing higher than the heavens, but after he died, she had lost the inspiration, the motivation to sing. Meeting Erik had been life-changing. His music spoke to her in ways that no-one else had. It was though she finally understood the universe.

She did have feelings for Raoul once, but they were nothing now. It was just a forgotten memory to her, and sometimes, Christine could almost pretend it had never happened. It wasn't so ridiculous after all. When they had dated, their lives didn't change that dramatically, and every day was like the day before. Back then, Christine had been happy, and had even hoped that Raoul was the man she would spend her life with, but nothing happened. She kept waiting for something to happen, something that would tell her that they were meant to be together. She had hoped that every silly romantic cliche would come true, and that she'd never be able to exist without him beside her, that she'd get butterflies in her stomach, and her heart would beat wildly in front of him. But Raoul's good smiles and hand squeezes did nothing for her heart. She had known then, that her love for Raoul, was of a brotherly love.

Comparing their relationships, Christine could see very clearly one point that she had almost missed. The romantic cliches she had hoped to experience with Raoul, the butterflies and the wildly beating heart, was nothing compared to the way Erik made her feel.

Christine tried to tell Erik that his concerns over Raoul were nothing, and that no-one would ever take her away from him, but Erik hadn't responded the way she had expected. He had slumped in his seat, staring at their hands together. Christine tried to tell him that her past with Raoul was over, but then they had gotten onto the topic of Carlotta.

Christine knew they had to talk about her. They needed to understand together what Carlotta was up to, and why she felt so included to ruin any happiness for Erik. She must have been hurt over something, not something so trivial either. Carlotta had said that Erik had a nasty temper, which when you took Meg's story into consideration, meant that Carlotta had done something, and Erik had responded less than nicely. Erik only buried his face in his hands at the mere mention of her name, and Christine knew that it was the point of no return. It seemed they would be airing out the skeletons in their closet together.

Christine insisted on hearing the story from his point of view. She had heard everyone else's thoughts, but the one person she truly needed to hear it from had said nothing up until now. Erik begged to not tell her, and Christine could feel something well up inside of her, something akin to anger and hurt. Erik began slowly, telling of how they had met, and Christine felt her chest tighten as he mentioned bringing Carlotta to his home. Christine could see it, beautiful Carlotta touching Erik intimately, here on the couch they shared now. Erik would have given in to such charms and beguiles, and Christine couldn't look at Erik without feeling betrayed. It was ridiculous to feel that way, it had happened five years ago, but it still felt painful to Christine. She could understand how Erik felt, now.

_The both of us hates the idea of the other being happy with someone else._ Christine thought while Erik protested against her accusation of them both sleeping together. _I should have been honest about Raoul._

Christine still pressed him though, once he had told her that Carlotta had left his apartment because he would not bed her. That made Christine feel very relieved, as though Carlotta's hands were around her throat, squeezing the life of her, and now those hands were gone. Christine was glad that they had not slept together, but a lingering thought in the back of her head questioned why Erik had refused her. She was very beautiful, and from Erik's description, she had been enamored with him, and he with her, so what was it that made him turn her away? Was it something that Erik would turn her away for too?

Erik could only sob out a few words, but she had understood then why Carlotta was turned away. She had tried to remove the mask. Christine could not imagine what Erik did, but she knew she would have been furious with the opera singer too. Christine dropped the subject, and concentrated on Erik. He needed a lot of support right now, and she wished that Nadir was here to help, but it was still morning, and Nadir had said he would wait until the afternoon. Though whether or not he had been joking, she wasn't sure. Christine sat close to Erik, rubbing his back in the same way her father would have done when she was sick. She placed her face against his shoulder blades, and murmured soft, comforting noises. Erik's body responded to the noises she made, and he unstiffened. Erik promised to protect her, but Christine debated whether or not it was Erik who needed protecting.

Christine tried to make Erik see that Carlotta would have hurting too, but Erik seemed to chuckle at that, making Christine wonder what she had said. He took her hand, and held it to the mask's lips.

"You know, my dear. I think you are right. I shall have Nadir send a message to her, and I will discuss the matter rationally with Miss Guidicelli." Erik said formally. Christine wanted to pull away from that voice. It was mischievous, dark and slightly _crazy_, and Christine made an uncertain noise, causing Erik to look at her. "You needn't worry, my Christine. I have said that I will protect you, and I shall."

"But Erik, are you sure you two ... _need _to talk? I know it would be good for the two of you, but this can wait-" Christine said, trying to backpedal as she could see that something about Erik had changed in the last few seconds.

"Of course not, my dear!" Erik proclaimed, jumping up out of his seat. "Plans are to be set in motion, and I would not want my Christine to worry her pretty little head about Carlotta."

Erik's voice had taken on a more urgent tone, and he began to mutter to himself as he began to take long strides around the coffee table. It was beginning to scare Christine, the way Erik had forgotten about her, and was now focused on something else, that only he could see. "Yes. _Yes_, I know what I shall do."

"Erik, please stop." Christine whispered, watching him as he stopped mid step, and craned his neck around to look at her, his head tilted in an unusual matter as he stared at her. "Please, let's not talk about them anymore. I have only a few more days left here, and I want to spend them thinking about you, and not about anyone else."

"Yes," Erik sighed with a clear, unwavering voice. "Yes, Christine, forgive me."

"Always." Christine said, slowly starting to smile as Erik came back to himself, from whatever dark place he had just been. She took a breath, wondering if the riled up state he was getting himself into had been something similar to what Carlotta had seen, and she let it go. There was no need to continue harboring such thoughts.

Erik calmed down now, still watching her, and Christine leaned forward to rest her forearms on her thighs, clasping her hands together as she smiled at him. Erik laughed, and took one of the chairs opposite her, facing towards the Koi pond and the large rose window. Christine watched as rays of multicoloured lights landed softly on his mask, and Christine grinned, biting her bottom lip as she drew a hand through her hair, staring around at the forgotten items on the coffee table. He was so handsome in the light, or at least, his mask was, and Christine's stomach twisted with the thought that the mask wasn't really him. Erik's music was still lying about, along with the speakers, and Christine remembered the way his music had made her feel.

It had made her feel like singing again. Erik's music reminded her very much of her father's music. They were both filled with an otherworldly presence, making Christine feel very alone, but so complete as the same time. Her father had managed to bring her to tears on many occasions with his violin, the imagery he conjured was like watching a film inside your head. Erik music was so different. It was forceful, and demanded to be felt.

"Bit of an odd morning, wouldn't you say?" She asked, ruffling her hair, and then dropped her arm back onto her thigh as she leaned over. It was more than an odd morning, but she had to break the ice somehow. Erik had gotten lost again, trapped in his head, and Christine waved a hand over the mask to make him respond.

"Yes." Erik said simply, watching her.

Christine chuckled, for once at a loss for words around Erik. He looked towards one of the doors facing the Koi pond, across from the kitchen door, and he stared at it for a few minutes, and then glanced at his hands, holding them before him as though he had never seen them before. Christine followed his gaze to the door, but didn't understand what he was looking at.

"What's in there?" Christine asked, curiously, nodding over to it.

"It is my music room." Erik said slowly, his mask lifting slightly, which Christine knew to mean that he was now looking at her.

"Really?" Christine said, and fidgeted in her seat. "You said you had a piano, and I was wondering where you were keeping it, but I didn't think you actually had a music room."

"Yes, I keep my instruments in there, but it is a haven for me, Christine. I compose all of my music there." Erik said, his voice becoming lighter, more carefree, and Christine could feel at ease, knowing her Erik had returned.

"Wow." Christine said, nodding. Christine didn't need a room to celebrate music, the whole world had been her stage. She would sing in the bathroom, the kitchen, in the street, in bed. No-one could make her stop singing, and several times, she had been told that would sing under her breath when walking.

She would sing while walking to school with her father, she would sing in the playgrounds as she played on the swings, she would sing Broadway tunes while doing the dishes and she would whistle classical music while making the dinner. Music was her life, it was everything and more to young Christine. Sometimes, she would just find herself in the middle of singing, unaware of when she had started, and her father would be looking at her with warm, loving eyes and a knowing smile. How she missed him. Her song, 'Gustave', was supposed to be her way of saying goodbye, but when that door had shut, a window had opened somewhere, and it was Erik's face that peered in. Or at least his mask.

"Would you like to see it?" Erik asked, though he seemed nervous to ask her such a thing.

"Yes, I would like that." Christine said, snapped out of her daydream.

Erik stood up, joining her instantly as she was still lifting herself off of her thighs and was sitting upright by the time he was holding his hand out to her. She looked at the red, slightly sweating hands, and she could see the extent of the damage he had done to himself in the kitchen. Christine wished she could have kissed his hands and made them feel better. Erik withdrew his hand though, and Christine quickly, though carefully, grabbed it.

"Your hands don't disgust me, Erik. I wouldn't have asked you to keep the gloves off if I did."

Erik nodded, lifting her up off the couch, and placed her arm around his, avoiding looking at their hands together as he walked her towards the large door.

"I have always been a musical child." Erik noted, placing his hand on the doorknob. "I used to use the empty bottles my mother left lying around and fill them with different levels of water so I could tap them and make a melody."

Christine lowered their hands as Erik still clung to the doorknob, unable to watch her. She merged their fingers together, and squeezed his hand. She was unsure how to respond. It sounded terrible, and Christine hoped there was more to the story. Erik continued without pause.

"I learnt to play the organ at my mother's church, but only because Father Hurran allowed it. My mother never knew."

"Father Hurran was the priest who looked after you?" Christine asked.

"Yes, a pleasant man, but too easily trusting in the work of God. Had he not been a priest, and given the position in my town, I would never have survived that terrible place."

Christine scowled sympathetically. "Then I shall have to thank him one day for saving you for me."

Erik looked down at her, and she wondered if he was smiling, pleased by her words. He turned back to the door, and opened it, letting the door swing open as they both stood in the doorway. Christine looked in, and felt her eyes widen at the sight of hundreds of CD's lining the wall, a number of different instruments shown for display against another wall, and a large, grand piano in one corner of the room.

"My god." Christine said, and Erik released her hands so she could enter the room. "This is amazing."

Christine wandered into the room, and looked over her shoulder. "Aren't you coming in?"

Erik was still standing by the door, watching her approach the musical instruments that were on the wall opposite him. "No, I am enjoying the sight of you in my music room too much."

Christine giggled, and turned back around to fully take in the details of the room. She spied the violin and various other instruments being held in a glass cabinet, similar to the bar that had been in the limousine. She walked over, and took a closer look at the glass, bending over. There was nothing to suggest that it was different from any other panes of glass, but Christine vowed to question Erik on it later. She looked at Erik's violin and stood up straight.

"My father used to play the violin." She said sadly. "He would play, and I would sing. We were happy then."

Erik took a few steps forward, his shoes clacking against the hardwood floor. "I would have liked to have met him."

"You two would have gotten on famously. My father always said, a man without music is a man without God. That never made any sense to me, but he'd always say it. I didn't see how religion and music were connected, but he did. He saw music everywhere. He thought in sonnets and poems, and my mother inspired each line to every poem. Their love for each other was beautiful. I almost hated them for it. They were both so wonderful, so full of life and I always felt so plain next to them. I loved them dearly, but when you stand in a shadow of a bright flame, you feel burnt." Christine said, turning to face Erik.

"Christine, you are wrong. You are not plain, not to me. You are a rare jewel, my dear." Erik said, taking her hands. "And I understand your father's saying. When I first heard your song, your voice reminded me of angels, and I thought I was being tricked somehow."

Christine smiled. "Did you really like it? You said on the yacht that my emotions were clouding-"

"I know what I said." Erik said impatiently, but with a gentle tone. "You do have much to learn, but your voice is worthy of be worshipped, Christine."

"I do not want to be worshipped." Christine said.

"Then what do you want?" Erik asked.

Christine looked around her. This room was dedicated to music and the joy it could bring. Erik clearly loved music much more than her, and Christine did not want to disappoint him again. She had said on the yacht that she needed time, but maybe what she really needed was Erik. He had been so supportive, listening to her every word, understanding her reasons and respecting them when it came to singing and her father. He had only ever thought of her well being, and Christine wanted very much to show him that she was thankful for his patience. It didn't help though, that she was impatient too.

"I don't know, Erik." She said, putting her wrists to her forehead in distress. "I thought I needed to grieve, but everytime I see you, I want nothing more than to sing for you. I feel like someone is cramming dozens of songs into my head, and if I don't do something about it then I will explode! You make me feel so different Erik, and it scares me that I can't make you happy, I don't want to disappoint you-"

Erik took her wrists gently, and the feel of his hot, flushed skin against her cured her of her rambling. He rested the mask's forehead against her own, and the cool molded plastic relieved the headache that was threatening to grow there. The tip of his nose was hovering only centimeters away, the mask's lips directly facing hers, tilted down so that they oversaw hers, and Christine took a few uneasy breaths as Erik spoke.

"I feel the same way, Christine. I will not make you sing, but I want you to know that whenever you are ready, I will be waiting to hear those songs. Every single one of them. You could never disappoint me."

Christine smiled, and looked up into the shadowy eyes of the mask. They were so close to her, she almost couldn't focus her eyes on them. "Thank you, Erik. I will not let you down."

One day, she would sing for him. She only hoped then Erik was not building up this perfect image in his head of an ideal Christine.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**Rosie! So glad that you're back! I've missed your reviews! Sounds like you've just been on a rollarcoaster!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	33. Chapter 33

**_Avril Lavigne's 'Take It'_**

_Just take it take it  
I can't take it take  
I know what you do  
Flash me  
The ways it's done  
Impolitely  
Trying to find some alone time  
No room to compromise_

_Just take it take it_  
_I can't take it take it_

_Send your picture to a magazine_  
_The page is not true_  
_Photography_  
_Is that what you always wanted to be_  
_I'd be worried for you_  
_Sometimes_  
_Gonna try_  
_Run and hide_  
_Get away from this_  
_I'll get by_  
_In this life_  
_This time_

_Take your best shot_  
_And press me_  
_Write a fictional story_  
_For your fee_  
_Try to get the world_  
_To believe_  
_Shocking headline surprise_

* * *

Talking with Christine about Raoul and Carlotta had been agony for Erik, but with Christine was standing with her lips so close to his, and her face pressed to his, forehead and nose, it was a pleasant agony that faced him now. He had been so worried that Christine had thought him mad when he had lost himself in front of her only a few minutes before. He had scared her, he could see. Her eyes had been wide when he had woken from his loathsome thoughts. He had been talking with his demons, so to speak, plotting on how to remove Carlotta. He knew exactly _how_ to get Carlotta to do as he wanted. He could not kill her, though he greatly desired to. She was a celebrity, and her death would only cause rumors, and they would be directed at him, and soon Christine. He could not have that. He would have to manipulate her, bend her to his will, and if she did not obey, then his voice would easily make her.

Christine had interrupted his plotting with her soft plea, and Erik had stared at her, his head dizzy from the bickering in his head. Her eyes were haunting him through the fog that filled his mind, and he numbly sat down before her. He wouldn't be able to hide his madness for much longer. She had no idea the extent of it, but she was beginning to see just how far from human he really was. She had tried to distract him, get him talking about anything other than Raoul or Carlotta, and she kept fidgeting or fumbling with her hair, an endearing thing to watch, but her worry for him was showing quite clearly.

Erik had glanced over to the music room, thinking of the night with Carlotta, but Christine had caught him, and asked him what was in there. Erik brightened, and asked if she would like to see it, and she smiled, gracing him once more. He had offered his hand to her, but her eyes flitted from one hand to the other, and Erik wanted very much to put his gloves back on. She wouldn't keep staring at them then, and he wouldn't feel so exposed. But he was keeping them off for Christine. She had asked him to do it, and he would do whatever she wished. Christine told him she wasn't disgusted by his hands when he tried to pull them away, and she raised herself off of the leather couch, her shoulder brushing his as he held her so close to him. Erik hadn't known how to respond, her words, always pleasant and comforting, often stunned him into silence.

Erik had seen the way she had walked into the music room, amazed and dazzled by it all. It was a glorious sight, watching her take small, timid steps into the room, as though she was walking through a church, admiring everything with a respectful gaze. The two great loves of Erik's life, together as last. Erik felt so very happy, smiling as she looked at him over her shoulder. It was not a large room, and it was dimly lit, the blinds still hadn't been opened yet, but Christine seemed to glow the moment her eyes settled on Erik's violin. She spoke of the impact music made on her life, and her father's influence. She spoke of her mother too, and how Christine was envious of their love for each other. Christine seemed to crumple up before Erik's eyes, and he took several forceful steps forward and tried to make her see how precious, how unique she was. In all the universe, in the many possibilities of infinite planets and parallel worlds, there would never be another Christine. She was a light that would never extinguish, a flame that would never flicker. Erik would guard her, her faithful servant, and he would never let any harm come to her.

The conversation had turned toward Christine's voice, and Erik told her what he had thought of the video. Christine seemed to relax, and Erik couldn't help but compare this moment and the moment on the yacht when he had brought up her voice. She had been upset then, but now, there was a look about her, that suggested that she wouldn't be too upset to talk about it. He asked her what she wanted, and she told him that she didn't want to be worshiped for her voice. She looked around, her eyes never really focusing on anything, and she began to panic, her thoughts colliding with other as she began to ramble, and Erik took the hands that were around her face and held her carefully. She was like a butterfly in his hands, and if he was not careful, he would tear off her beautiful wings.

It was this moment, this second, when his quivering lips were close to hers, that Erik swore his allegiance to her, until the end of time he would be her soldier, her warrior, her guide and protector. She needed him, though not as much as he needed her. Erik's attention returned to her lips. He knew how soft they were, he had felt them last night, and that recollection set him ablaze as he listened to Christine's heavy breathing.

That was that instant, that a single voice rang out in Erik's apartment.

"Erik! Where are you?"

It was Nadir, walking around his apartment searching for him. Erik stood straight, turning his head to face the open door, Christine's head practically lying on top of his chest as she looked up at him. She looked towards the open door, and frowned.

"I thought he said he'd visit in the afternoon, what time is it?" She asked, looking back at him, her ringlets bouncing around merrily.

Erik looked down at her. "I do not know but he has the most impeccable timing, doesn't he?" Erik joked cynically, and Christine placed her hand on his arm.

"You better see what he wants."

Erik cocked his head. "You do not wish to see him?"

"Oh, it's not that, it's just he called for you. You two probably need to catch up on business, am I right?"

Erik considered it, though by the sound of Nadir's voice, there was something else that Nadir wanted to talk about. Erik sighed. "Alright. I will speak with him. You may do as you wish while you are in my home, Christine. I shall only be a moment."

Christine smiled. "Thank you, Erik."

Erik smiled to himself, and drew his thumb over her cheek, causing them to turn the same shade of pink as her lips. He turned away before he become too lost in her, and left the room swiftly. He looked around, with no Nadir in sight.

"Where the devil..."

He turned in his place, about to rejoin Christine, when he heard Nadir's voice again.

"What did you two do last night?"

Erik turned to see Nadir standing in the kitchen's doorway, staring at his hands with unmasked shock. Erik had growled beneath his breath, and stuck his hands in his pockets. If Christine could look at them without flinching, then surely Nadir would have been able to. After all, Nadir had seen so much more than that. But no, there was something special about Christine. She would never turn him away, and Erik would never forget, that other people weren't as polite and as caring as the muse that stood in his holy space only a few metres away.

"Is it any of your business?" Erik asked, squeezing the gloves inside his pockets, his hands fit to burst. His nails were digging into his palms, and he could feel his skin ripping apart as they tried to heal, and in a few hours, they would be back to the scabby, peeling mess that had been before. "We danced, we talked."

Erik tried not to think about the other things that had happened. They were shameful, and he would tell no-one of his failure to protect Christine from himself. Nadir shot him a look, his amber coloured eyes locked on him as he furrowed his brow.

"And did you make sure Christine got home safely?" Nadir asked impatiently, joining him in the living room. Nadir could obviously tell that Erik was hiding something from him, but Nadir also knew better than to question Erik was he was not in a good mood.

Erik couldn't answer that question, and was struggling to come up with a good excuse that would stop Nadir's persistent line of questioning.

"You're awfully antsy today. Is it because I'm here early? Well suck it up, there's something you need to see." Nadir said, striding over to the couch to pick up one of the TV remotes, and noticed Christine's purse lying on the coffee table. "Erik...Why did Christine ..."

"Hello Nadir." Christine said, appearing beside Erik out of nowhere.

Erik had no idea how she managed to sneak up on him, but it greatly amused him. He turned his head to look at her, smiling to himself before turning back to look at Nadir.

Nadir stood upright, shocked by Christine's appearance, and gaped at the both of them. "C-Christine? What are you _doing_ here?"

Christine shrugged, trying to hide a smile. "I slept here last night."

Nadir's eyes widened. "Where?"

"In Erik's bed," She said, looking up at Erik from beneath her eyelashes. "And it was lovely, thank you. I wish my bed was as comfy as yours."

Erik grinned broadly at her words, but his cheeks were pressed hard against the inside of the mask, and it made the mask jiggle a little, looking as though the mask had independent thought of it's own. Christine cast him a confused look, as the mask shifted about, and he took hold of it on either side, easing it off his sweaty face as he stopped smiling. Her eyes had traced the blue veins on his hands, but she grew disinterested giving a sleepy smile as her eyes met his. This wasn't making a very good impression, Erik thought as his sticky skin flexed beneath the mask. Christine smiled, one corner of her lips lifting into a smirk as she turned back to Nadir, who was staring at the both of them as though they had just grown several heads between them. Nadir's eyes were focused on Erik's hands, which were sweaty and kept slipping about the mask, making embarrassing noises, which Christine struggled to hide her laughter from.

"Do you want something to eat? We made brownies." Christine said, ignoring Erik as she concentrated on Nadir, her lips shaking so much that she had to bite them.

"_You_ made brownies?" Nadir asked.

"_We_, made brownies, yes." Christine corrected, as Erik adjusted the mask so it wasn't so turned about, and he sharply looked at Nadir.

"Do you have a _problem_ with that?" Erik asked, Nadir's stupid act annoying him and setting him on edge.

"No, Erik." Nadir answered.

"Then have some, Nadir." Erik ordered, throwing his hand down to show the brownies on a plate that Erik had brought in for Christine.

"Not right now, perhaps later-"

"You don't wish to try it?" Erik asked, making Nadir fumble over his words as Erik stood to his tallest height, his imposing figure forcing Nadir to pick up a brownie, almost crushing it in his hands from the force of his grip, and quickly took a bite.

"That was mean." Christine said, lightly smacking Erik on the arm as she chuckled. "Nadir, you don't have to eat it."

"He could at least say 'thank you'." Erik said, chuckling as Christine joined Nadir's side.

"And you could say 'sorry'." Christine said mockingly with a smile on her face before turning to Nadir. "Please sit."

Nadir and Christine were about to sit down together on the couch, but Erik quickly took care of that, grabbing a handful of Nadir's suit and dragged him over to the chair opposite them. Erik settled himself on the couch, his arm already held out as he held his breath, waiting to see if Christine would join him. Christine laughed, and fell against him, her face pressing into his chest before she turned and pressed her back against his ribs. Erik let go of his breath, and he slowly inched his right hand around her waist, his other hand resting on his lap, where he could gently stroke her dress with his index finger. Christine shivered, and whispered to him,

"Don't start that again." She was reminding him of how he had tickled her last night, and Erik laughed, almost giving in to tickling her again, but he restrained himself in front of Nadir, who wasn't given the privilege of being intimate to their secret jokes.

Nadir was watching Erik's hand, engrossed by them. "I see a lot happened last night."

Christine's eyes wavered over to Nadir, and she nodded. "Yeah. And this morning too."

Erik sighed, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear so he could see the pained expression on her face.

Nadir looked up. "You told her?"

Erik released one of Christine's ringlets and let it fall down to rest on her chest. How to subtly explain to Nadir what he had told Christine, without Nadir messing everything up? "Yes, I told her about Carlotta. But I have told Christine that I will talk things over with Carlotta."

Christine jumped in. "But that's not why you're here, is it?" She asked, changing the topic of discussion. Erik was grateful, and began to rub her back. She looked at him, and took his other hand, the one that had been pinching her dress between his fingers and feeling the material, and held it in her lap, turning back to Nadir.

Nadir half smiled, looking very content with watching the both of them, and Erik wondered what he saw. "No, you are right, Christine. I am here, because we have a problem."

He reached forward, and lifted the TV remote off the couch. "Oh what now?!" Erik cried, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

"It'll be okay, Erik." Christine said, her eyes lifting to the large HD screen in front of them, and squeezed his hand.

The screen turned on, and Nadir scrolled down a menu to bring up several news channels, and Nadir selected one that appeared to a channel directed towards celebrity gossip. A female anchor appeared on the screen, and was already in the middle of discussing a story about some reality TV star announcing her pregnancy. The woman smiled, reading the teleprompter a few seconds before she had to read it aloud, and said in an eager tone,

"The hottest new celebrity couple that have been littering the magazines and spreading like wildfire across the internet, known as Chrisik, have been the fuel for many rumours as they continue to hide from the photographers, until last night-"

"Chrisik?" Erik asked.

"Oh my God." Christine said, squirming with embarrassment. "I think that's our couple name."

She buried her face in her hands, her ears turning red. "This is so awkward! I can't believe we have a couple name! And it's not even cute, it's just weird!"

"Couple name?" Erik asked, feeling very light headed.

"Yes. It is customary to bestow A-list celebrity couples with portmanteaus, so to speak." Nadir said, smirking as Christine looked up confused.

"Portmanteaus?" She asked.

"Yes, it's where two words are merged to create a new word."

"Chrisik." Erik whispered, and Christine turned to look at him.

"You like it?" She asked.

"I... I _do_." Erik said, blushing himself, and he could feel his cheeks grow very hot as Christine blushed with him.

"-made her red carpet debut at the Court One music awards, where she fell on top of Erik Destler." The anchor continued, and they watched as they showed a clip of a camera whipping around to focus on Erik and Christine, just seconds after they landed on the carpet. "They announced they were an item the day after, making things official as they started dating immediately, and the social networking websites have exploded, as everyone is now talking about the odd couple. Christine Daae's channel has this morning hit 500,000 subscribers with the release of last night's photos and-"

"Wait, photos? What photos?" Christine asked, looking at Nadir.

"Ah, yes, she returns to it in a minute." Nadir supplied.

"-of the comments have been supportive, wishing them the best, though some say that the relationship won't last long due to their wishes of privacy being ignored by other celebrities."

Erik stared in horror as a barrage of secretly taken photos from the party last night were displayed on the screen. All them of them had been taken without their knowledge, and according to the anchor, they had been displayed on several social networking sites, with thousands of people liking, retweeting, sharing the photos online. Christine gasped, staring at the screen, and she looked at Erik.

"Oh _Erik_." She cried sorrowfully. "I'm sorry."

Erik clenched his fists, but Nadir leaned forward. "I'm afraid there wasn't much I could have done. I've had the photos removed from some sites, but it's impossible to delete anything from the internet."

Christine sighed. "It's okay Nadir, and I don't think anyone else could do any better. I'm just surprised. I didn't think security would be so lax."

"_Victoria_." Erik snarled. "Empty headed woman!"

Christine smiled gently. "Erik, this wasn't her fault, and you can't blame her for it."

"I shall do my best to." Erik argued, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Christine laughed, and leaned over to place a kiss on the mask's cheek. "You can't stop people talking. They interested in us, and I can't really blame them. I know we asked for privacy, but Mr Lambert was right, we need to learn how to control the media. We need to give them enough to keep them happy, but so not so much that we're on show."

Erik took her hands, holding them perfectly naturally as he nodded. "I understand. We shall try his idea, if you think it will work. But please, but you must me go at my own pace. I .. I still cannot stand to be around other people, despite my dependence on you."

"Of course." Christine said, and buried her face in his neck, her hot breath hitting him, warming his skin. "We'll take as long as we want on our path. It'll help reveal the pebbles." Christine said, her words on the yacht echoing in his head.

"I am not sure how though." Erik confessed, whispering in her ear as Nadir ignored the pair of them and focused on the TV. Erik squeezed her hand. "I do not think I was meant to be a normal person, and to ask me to be a normal man with a beautiful woman is a challenge that I don't-"

"Erik," Christine interrupted, looking up as she rested her chin on his chest. Her eyes were shining, and the technicolour lights dancing across her features were making her look very rested, but deep in thought. "Erik. If you are afraid, then I will protect you. We will protect each other, won't we?"

"Yes, Christine." Erik said feeling his eyes tear up. "We will."

"Good." Christine said, turning her head to press her cheek against his chest, looking up at the rose window. Erik could see it reflected in her eyes, and she looked unearthly. Erik prayed again, turning his head upwards as he closed his eyes. Heaven. He was in heaven.

"If you two do not have plans, I have a suggestion that might keep them sated, before they go too far and invade your privacy far worse than a few photos." Nadir offered, flicking through some channels.

"Oh, like what?" Christine asked, her thumb absentmindedly stoking his palm as she watched the Koi pond, and the little particles of dust that swirled about in the air.

Nadir turned towards Christine, smiling. "You haven't seen much of New York, yet, have you?"

Christine sat up, and both she and Erik looked at each other in confusion. Nadir watched them both, and grinned, pulling out his phone to text the limousine driver below.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful!**

**Rosie! So glad that you're back! I've missed your reviews! Sounds like you've just been on a rollarcoaster!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	34. Chapter 34

**_Sugababe's_** 'Too Lost In You'

_You look into my eyes_  
_I go out of my mind_  
_I can't see anything_  
_Cos this love's got me blind_  
_I can't help myself_  
_I can't break the spell_  
_I can't even try_

_I'm in over my head_  
_You got under my skin_  
_I got no strength at all_  
_In the state that I'm in_

_And my knees are weak_  
_And my mouth can't speak_  
_Fell too far this time_

_Baby, I'm too lost in you_  
_Caught in you_  
_Lost in everything about you_  
_So deep, I can't sleep_  
_I can't think_  
_I just think about the things that you do (you do)_  
_I'm too lost in you_  
_(Too lost in you)_

_ooh_  
_Well you whispered to me_  
_And I shiver inside_  
_You undo me and move me_  
_In ways undefined_  
_And you're all I see_  
_And you're all I need_  
_Help me baby (help me baby)_  
_Help me baby (help me now)_

* * *

Christine had been trying very hard to hold onto all of her conscious thought when standing before Erik, but she had one rational thought in her head. It seemed to form from the exact point that Erik's mask touched her forehead. The only thing that separated their eager lips was the mask. They were so close, so imaginably close, and it was Nadir's unimpressed voice ringing out in Erik's apartment that made Erik look towards the open door. Christine pulled a face while Erik wasn't looking. As much as she enjoyed Nadir's company, he really did have the worst timing. She looked out of the open door. But speaking of time, it surely wasn't the afternoon just yet? Christine asked Erik, but he just ended up repeating her own thoughts about Nadir. Christine encouraged him to go say hello, and Christine watched as Erik swept from the room as though he was a leaf on the wind. She smiled, and brushed a hand through her hair as she glanced around. He had told her that she could do what she liked when in his home, but Christine was perfectly happy looking around the music room. She admired the other instruments, browsed through his music collection, and lovingly stroked some of the keys of the grand piano. She was sitting before it soon enough, and noticed that this room was the same as his kitchen and his bedroom, with chrome and grey everywhere. It was beginning to make Christine rather dizzy.

_What he needs is more colour. Why have it all kept in the living room?_ She thought as she approached the open door.

She peeked through, and saw Nadir bending over the coffee table to reach for something. He had seen her purse and her phone, and looked confused. Despite being a detective, it seemed he could figure out the mystery, as he was trying to ask something. Christine smiled together, creeping in behind Erik as he stood before the Koi pond, his hands hidden in his pockets. A wicked thought of tickling Erik had dashed across her mind, but she ignored it, instead trying to see if she could sneak up on Erik as she joined his side. She stood slightly behind him, composed herself, and said hello to Nadir, who jumped at the sight of her, while Erik calmly turned around as though he had already known she was there. That frustrated her, she had been so quiet, even Nadir hadn't seen her, so she continued to address Nadir calmly without looking at Erik, and tried to see if she could embarrass Erik, as she was tried to hide her smile. Nadir began to interrogate her on her sleeping habits, in disbelief apparently, before Christine thanked Erik for allowing her to sleep there. She looked at him demurely, teasing him, wanting to see how he would act. She hoped he would suddenly take her in his arms again and hold her. She remembered the half focused dream about Erik, and she grinned at him. Erik said nothing, but the mask jumped, as though something just pressed suddenly against the inside of it. Erik looked between Christine and Nadir, embarrassed as he began to adjust his mask in an odd way. It had certainly deflated the moment, she had to admit. Christine was puzzled as to what he was trying to do, but she didn't want to keep watching him, it would only add to his embarrassment. It was only made worse when Erik's bare fingers slid across the mask, making high pitched squeals, and Christine now was trying to not laugh in front of Erik, in case it would hurt his feelings.

She had tried to distract herself by being the gracious hostess and offered Nadir some of the brownies. Nadir just seemed flustered, ready to have a stiff drink, and Erik had tormented Nadir into eating their brownies when he had stopped adjusting his mask, making Christine smirk. If anyone else had done it, she would have scolded them, but Erik just made it seem funny. She had playfully teased Erik, joining Nadir's side as her hand tingled with the sensation of hitting Erik on the arm. She had been about to sit with Nadir, there was something in his eyes that told her that something was not right, but Erik had interrupted her thought process as he strode past Christine, grabbed Nadir's sleeve, and dumped him in a chair opposite them. Erik settled himself in the corner of the couch, far away from Nadir, and held his right arm out along the back of the couch, his mask turned towards Nadir. Erik said nothing, but she knew that he wanted her to curl up against him again. He had enjoyed it previously, and so had she, so she was happy enough to give in to his mute request. She had gotten herself comfy, facing Nadir, when she could feel Erik's hand slowly making its way around her waist. His finger brushed over her spine, and she shivered, forgetting herself entirely. She reprimanded him, hoping he would pick up on the jest, as she had been joking that he would start tickling her again. She was scared that she would not be able to stop him if he had started. His hands would have brought her such happiness and euphoria, and Erik had surely learned now that it was safe it continue tickling her even if she said stop. Erik must have had the same thoughts, as he had laughed, returning his attention to Nadir.

Christine had been about to do the same, when her attention was drawn to Erik's other hand. She had completely forgotten about it. It was pinching her dress, high up on her thigh, and a sudden flush of heat hit her, and she had no clue why. Her eyes wavered over to Nadir, and answered his questions as she tried to calmly have a normal conversation. It wasn't helping that Erik then started playing with her hair, while Nadir was talking to the both of them. Nadir had commented about last night, and Christine had replied that a lot had happened that very morning too. Christine's emotions were like a bag of angry cats, all struggling to be let out and felt, and she felt as though she was losing control over everything. Just being in Erik's presence seemed to bring out the stormy waters that brewed in her.

_It doesn't matter. M__y feelings for Erik are true, and he feels the same way. We have the rest of our lives to know each other better. There will always be storms, but I won't be alone. We'll have each other._

Christine hadn't really been listening to Erik and Nadir's conversation, they were talking of Carlotta, and Christine was jolted out of her thinking by the mention of the woman's name, and groaned under her breath. One hour. One hour without anyone else in the world, with Erik all to herself, and Christine would have thrown a parade. She changed the conversation as she brought up Nadir's reason for coming round so early. Which had led to them watching the TV in shock as a beautiful news anchor began listing off events on their 'timeline', from the moment they met, up until the night before, where it was revealed that a few of the celebrities that had been there had sneakily taken photos of the both of them and published them on social networking websites without their permission. Christine's first instinct that kicked in had been anger. They had all been so charming and friendly, without any accusations, and she simply couldn't understand why they would invade their privacy like that. They had all complained of the reporters and paparazzi doing the same thing to them! Christine couldn't figure it out, and her anger turned to sadness. This would only upset Erik, and who knew how he would react. He would never let her go out in New York now if he thought that other people might try the same thing. Christine turned to face Erik, soothing him before he could get too riled up, though she could tell he was beyond unhappy, as his hands were clenched into fists, _shaking_, and he had become lost in his own world again. She managed to cool his head, so to speak, by kissing him on the mask's cheek as she tried to remake her point from the night before. They needed to get the media on their side, to sympathize with them. It was the only way. Erik saw sense and gave in to her wishes, and Christine had beamed at him, pleased by his words.

Nadir had piped up then, offering a suggestion as to how to keep the media happy, but that first, Christine would need to go back to the hotel to get changed. Erik had reluctantly agreed to Nadir's suggestion to explore New York, though Nadir had not explained what they would be doing, and Erik had watched her as she entered his bedroom to retrieve her shoes. When she came out, she found Erik waiting outside the door, holding onto her purse, and Nadir gone, to call the elevator. Christine had walked, hand in hand with Erik towards the elevator, but from the way that Erik was clasping her hand, she judged him to be very nervous. Christine and Nadir stood silently in the elevator as Erik finally gave into his aggravation, and began cursing the other celebrities, demanding that Nadir find out who posted the pictures and make them pay. Nadir stayed silent, but Christine nodded along with Erik, rubbing his arm as she held onto it.

"You'd have thought that they would have understood the concept of privacy." Erik vented, his hand over Christine's as it rested on his arm, holding her tightly, which made her wince. "Did they not think I would not find out?"

"Erik, we can't overreact to this, okay?" Christine said solemnly, aware that Nadir was watching her intently, as was Erik. She wondered if they picked up on her meaning. "It's all very well saying that what they did was wrong, but in the end, it's not a bad thing. It was photos of us on our very first public date. I know you're not happy, but _I_ am now that I have more photos of us together to put on my phone."

Erik stared down at her, and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. "It truly pleases you, doesn't it?"

Christine blinked. "...The photo?"

"Yes. You enjoy having proof of us being together." Erik said, staring ahead at the closed elevator doors.

Christine shook her head. "It's not _proof._ It's more like ... having a physical memory. Something I can hold onto that won't fade and disappear. I'll always have it. That's what I enjoy."

Erik looked down at her again. "Physical memory?"

"Yeah." Christine said simply, shrugging as they arrived in the underground parking garage. "I can use those photos to remember the good times between us. So, I'm not too upset by the photos themselves, I'm just annoyed that they didn't ask us if they could share them."

"I see." Erik said, as together they surrounded the limo on one side, piling in after Erik had opened for the door for her, and they proceeded to go to the Winchester.

Christine had asked Erik to wait in the limo when they arrived at her hotel, much to his annoyance, she was sure, but she was confident that bringing him up was a bad idea. They'd never get anything done if they continued following each other about, and Christine wanted to spend as much time with Erik out in New York. She was excited, she was hoping that Nadir would offer to show them an art gallery (it was amongst the list of things she wanted to do, and she could cross it off along with riding in a taxi, which she had done the day before with Meg and Sorrelli), and she had skipped through the lobby, racing over to the elevators as she wondered what to wear. Her heart was racing, there had been no reporters at the front of the hotel, but that didn't mean no-one would find out that she was doing what could have been misinterpreted as the walk of shame. Though it could hardly be called shame when Christine had the biggest smile plastered on her face. Meg soon joined her, her high heels clacked along the floor as she skipped over also, patting her hair back into place and smoothing out her uniform, grinning at Christine widely.

"So? _So_?" Meg asked, looking over her shoulder. "What happened?"

Christine blushed, and waited until they were both in the elevator. "Guess who turned up?"

"Sorrelli, right?" Meg asked, clearly privy to some information that Christine wasn't aware of.

"Sorrelli? I didn't even see her." Christine said, frowning. "I wonder why she didn't tell me she'd be there?"

Meg pursed her lips, and shrugged. "I only found out a few minutes after you got in the limo with Mr Destler. Sorrelli said she had to go get changed for the party and left."

"Oh," Christine said, and shrugged as well. "Well, no, not Sorrelli. I meant _Carlotta_."

Meg paled. "Carlotta? She came to the party?"

"Yeah." Christine tried to laugh it off to hide the fear she had felt when confronted face to face with the singer. "I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something. She wasn't around for long though, Miss Mayner scared her off."

Meg still looked nervous. "How did Mr. Destler react?"

"Very well, considering." Christine murmured, thinking about Erik's story about Carlotta trying to remove his mask. "The party was nice. Erik did really well behaving himself, and I'm proud."

Meg smiled. "So you ended up having fun?"

"Yeah, lots."

They stood in silence, until Meg said. "You stayed at his place." It wasn't a question or an accusation, it was just a statement.

Christine nodded, blushing. "I kind of fell asleep on his couch, and I woke up the next morning in his bed."

Meg's turned around, her eyes wide. "Wh-"

"It's not what you think. Erik slept on the couch after putting me there. He's always been a gentlemen towards me."

Meg didn't look so sure, but as they left the elevator and began to walk to her room, she soon piped up, "So what are the plans for today?"

Christine shrugged again, laughing. "Mr Kahn, his manager wants to show us New York, but it has something to do with keeping the photographers off our back."

Meg nodded as they approached her hotel door. "That's good."

"Yeah. I hope it's something that Erik will like. I'll have to hold onto him all day to make him happy." Christine giggled, getting her key card from her purse.

Meg said nothing, and watched as Christine unlocked her door.

"You wanna come in or wait out here? I'm only changing and freshening myself up." Christine asked, smiling enthusiastically as she looked over her shoulder.

"I'll come in." Meg said, her eyes on Christine's back as she followed her in.

"Good thing there were no reporters outside." Christine said, holding the door open for Meg and then closed it behind her, kicking off her high heels. They were killing her, how had she not felt it before? "I must look odd right now, I'm a right mess."

"No, you're ... you look fine." Meg said, blushing as she went to stand beside Christine's bed. "Housekeeping has been."

Christine walked around the corner of the bathroom to stand and stare at her bed. The pillows had been changed, the sheets straightened and a small mint left on the pillow.

"Oh." Christine sighed sadly.

"What?" Meg asked, looking up with confusion. "Is something the matter?"

"It's nothing." Christine said, and brought her phone out to stare at the photo of the two of them hugging. "I have something better."

"Better?" Meg echoed, a confused smile appearing now.

Christine looked up, and bit her lip. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry. It's between Erik and I."

There was no need to tell Meg, it would have been wrong, even though it was just an innocent photo. It was hers, and she didn't want to share it, truth be told.

"That's okay. You go change into cool, it's gonna be hot today. You'll probably need some sun lotion, and wear flats, you might be on your feet all day."

"Thanks." Christine said, rummaging through her luggage.

Christine hoped that Erik liked what she was gonna wear. She almost hadn't chosen it, but there was no reason not to. Each time she wore something new in front of him, it seemed to bring him great pleasure, and Christine wanted nothing more than to give him pleasure. Meg began a running commentary on her clothes, the usual '_Oh that would look good on __you_', '_maybe not that one_' and '_I love this_!'. Christine was amused though, it was nice having someone eager to listen to her. Back home, the Morning Mafia had never paid her any attention. The Morning Mafia was what Christina called the three girls that started the morning shift, though their real names were Emma, Samantha and Jo. They were perfectly nice, but they was their own little clique, where they knew each other so well and just clicked. That was fine with Christine, she usually hung out with Raoul, and that was nice as he was always making her laugh and they were always talking her videos or whatever had been in the news. Talking with Meg about clothes and jewellery, while uninteresting to Christine was very interesting to Meg, so she allowed her to continue, occasionally putting in a comment, but it was Meg who did most of the talking. Christine picked up her outfit and walked into the bathroom as Meg began to talk about the various shops around New York. This was where Christine was most interested, and she began to ask her own questions, making Meg very happy, as an idea formed in Christine's head.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I',m trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	35. Chapter 35

**_Daniel Bedingfields's 'If You're_** Not The One'

_If you're not the one then why does my soul feel glad today?  
If you're not the one then why does my hand fit yours this way?  
If you are not mine then why does your heart return my call  
If you are not mine would I have the strength to stand at all?_

_I'll never know what the future brings_  
_But I know you're here with me now_  
_We'll make it through_  
_And I hope you are the one I share my life with_

_I don't want to run away but I can't take it, I don't understand_  
_If I'm not made for you then why does my heart tell me that I am?_  
_Is there any way that I can stay in your arms?_

_If I don't need you then why am I crying on my bed?_  
_If I don't need you then why does your name resound in my head?_  
_If you're not for me then why does this distance maim my life?_  
_If you're not for me then why do I dream of you as my wife?_

* * *

Erik had tried his best to hide his temper in front of Christine, she didn't need to be scared any more than she had been that morning, but he couldn't help but vent in the elevator after Nadir had convinced the both of them to join him in his limousine on some surprise adventure he had apparently pulled out of thin air. Christine had put on a brave face, and held onto him, a small smile gracing her lips as she stood so close to him. Erik was sad, as he could no longer smell the honey and mango that had drifted from her before, but it had been replaced by the sweet alluring scent of _her_. With no perfume, she smelled exquisite. There were no words to describe the joy Erik felt from the comfort and serenity of Christine's presence. Little treasures were being given every day, and he cherished every little thing. Before, had such photos of himself been released to the public without his knowledge, he would have flown into a rage, probably smashed half of his apartment and blamed it all on Nadir, but with Christine beside him, he found he couldn't even argue with her once she spoke of how it didn't truly upset her. She wanted the photos, it seemed. It made her smile, and at first, Erik had been discouraged. Surely her enthusiasm for more photos meant she was enjoying the limelight, but she told him how they only served as _physical memories_. She had said that it was something that would never fade, something she could always hold onto the remember the 'good times'. So far, none of the photos made Erik think of good times. The photos of them both on the yacht and at the party were marred by the distrust and invasion of other people, but maybe Christine saw more than that. Why Christine believed it was a good idea to have photos of them together puzzled Erik, but she didn't seem unfazed by Erik's attitude, and if she was happy, then Erik was happy too.

They had gotten into Nadir's limousine, and they had all talked about the party the night before, commenting on the other guests' outfits, the topics they had discussed. Nadir had brought up Firmin and Andre, and Christine had flushed, sinking deeper into Erik's side, and he had stroked her hair, pressing the mask's face to her crown of golden ringlets on top of her head. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but by the way she had held onto one of the trousers belt loops, she was thinking of him. That thought alone brought Erik immeasurable pride, until they had reached the Winchester. Christine had pulled away, and Erik felt cold without her warm body pressed against his. He had opened the passenger door, stepping out lightly, and held his hand out for her, so she could get out easily. She did, her ringlets spilling over her shoulders as she bowed her head to step out, and she looked up at him, a hesitant look on her face as she told him to wait for her in the limousine. Erik had been appalled, she had invited him up the night before, but now she did not want him. She placed her hand on his arm and smiled. _'I'll only be a minute, Erik. If you come up we'll just get distracted.'_ she had said, blushing. He had tried to argue, saying that he would be respectful, and she had laughed at him, joking that it wasn't him she was doubting, but she had not spoken further, instead leaving a kiss on the mask's jaw, and skipped off merrily, her laughter filling his ears. He wasn't sure what she meant by those words. He thought them over as he returned to the inside of the limousine, and stared at the floor in silence.

Nadir watched him as he scrolled through his messages. Erik continued to do nothing, waiting for Christine to return, until Nadir groaned and lowered his phone.

"My God, Erik. You're still perfectly capable of having a normal conversation without Christine around you know."

Erik looked up passively. "I know that."

"Then tell me, how did last night go?" Nadir asked, showing a little more interest.

"It was the single most terrifying night of my life. I loved it." Erik said, staring down at his gloved hands.

Nadir chuckled. "A woman may inspire many things in a man."

"Yes." Erik said simply, clenching his fists. "_Many_ things."

Nadir noticed Erik's change of attitude, and asked, "So am I right in thinking that you _didn't_ tell Christine everything?"

"She knows what she needs to know. That is all." Erik said, his voice cold. "I will not scare her away. I won't do that."

"Erik, I don't think you could scare her away. She's perfectly happy being right by your side. So much so I'm a little worried that we might not be able to get her back on the plane on Sunday." Nadir joked, stroking his chin.

Erik brightened up. "Oh, wouldn't _that_ be heaven. To have her all to myself. Do you think she would? _Stay_? If I asked her, do you think she would stay a little longer?"

Nadir stopped smiling and took on a more serious tone, leaning forward in his seat. "You cannot ask her that."

Erik stopped himself from daydreaming. "What do you mean I can't ask her? If she says yes-"

"It does not matter if she says yes, she _must_ go back to London. Believe me, after all of the press today, the media should be satisfied, and things can start to quieten down. When she goes back to London, they won't follow her as much and she can get back to her normal life, but with every second she's here in New York, she's-"

"Are you trying to say I should let her go? You think I can? You think that I will _now_?" Erik questioned viciously, leaning forward himself as he jabbed an angry finger at the middle eastern man. "I warn you, Daroga. You tread on _thin ice_."

Nadir shivered from Erik's tone. "Erik, I am trying to say that you two should wait until things have cooled down and you can have the privacy you so desire. Everyone is so curious and interested and _excited_ about the two of you that you'll never get any peace until things have died down, and everyone has forgotten about these last few days and you are free to pursue Christine in any way you see fit."

Erik said nothing, his finger still aimed towards Nadir. He leant back in his seat, the leather seats creaking as he watched Nadir carefully. "I _see_."

"I know it's not what you want, but in the long run, it will be best. She needs time to adjust, Erik. Keeping her here in New York won't make her forget about home. And when she's there, she won't forget you."

"I must not let _that_ happen." Erik growled distractedly.

Nadir said nothing, his upper lip twitching. His face lit up, and Erik realized it was from his phone. He had gotten a message, and Nadir rolled his eyes, and aimed it towards him. Erik leaned forward, and saw that he had received a text message.

"It's Christine." Nadir said, turning the phone back around to face him.

Erik perked up. "What is it? What does she say?"

Nadir read the message to himself, his eyes darting across his phone. He chuckled to himself, and Erik could feel his blood boil with the thought of some joke that Christine and Nadir were sharing, and he leaned forward.

"Damn you, man, give me the blasted thing!" Erik swore, snatching the phone from between Nadir's fingers. He flipped the phone over and tried to read the message, his thumb wiping the screen as he tried to scroll through it, but the phone wouldn't respond, and Erik growled again. It was because of his gloves, the phone wasn't registering his touch. Erik groaned audibly, and handed it back to Nadir.

"Read it." Erik commanded.

Nadir raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Actually, I can't."

Erik wasn't sure he had heard right. "Excuse me?"

"I can't unless you want me to spoil it."

"Spoil it?" Erik asked. Was Christine planning a surprise for him? Was it another delightful dress for him to explore with his sinful hands?

"Yes. And she has threatened me under pain of death that I'm not allowed to tell you. Thankfully, it falls perfectly in what I have planned. She must have guessed my plans." Nadir said, tucking his phone into his jacket's inner pocket. "Clever girl."

"I'm not sure I like this." Erik said doubtfully. In the past, surprises had meant horrible things, but Christine seemed to turn every belief he had on its head, and it made him dizzy and excited, but also frustrated.

Nadir looked up. "I promise you, you will like it. You might not expect it, but you will like it. I swear."

Erik still wasn't sure, but he trusted Nadir enough that he was able to relax. "Does she wish to show me something?"

Nadir smirked. "I'm not _telling_ you. Just be patient."

"You might as _well_ tell me," Erik started, jesting with Nadir. "I know she is planning _something_ for me. If she finds out that you told me that much!-"

Nadir mockingly widened his eyes. "Dear God, I might very well lose my head!"

They laughed together, and settled into a comfortable silence, the both of them smiling. Nadir looked at his watch.

"She should be down soon." He said, his eyes lingering on his own hands, before he quickly spied Erik's hands.

Erik tried to brush it off, and looked out of the window to stare at the fire exit where he had last seen Christine. Nadir cleared his throat.

"How did she convince you to take them off?"

Erik turned around slowly, which Nadir always managed to freak Nadir out, to his pleasure. "She ... She wanted me to touch her, Nadir. She wanted to feel my hands and I could not say no to her. How could I? She was so beautiful, and it was all she wanted. I couldn't help it, she only wanted to see my hands. My poor, disgusting hands. All she asked of me, and I gave it to her. She did not cry, she did not scream, and she did not run. She held my poor hands to her face and I could feel her. I felt her, and I wept. She held me, Nadir. No one has ever held me before. Not even my own mother, but Christine, she did it without my asking her. She let me hold _her_ too, and she fell asleep in my arms. Never has a man been given a greater gift. She is a good girl, Nadir, so good to treat a monster like me. I am frightened of her. This is all too good to be true. I do not know if I am asleep or if I am awake, and it scares me."

Nadir sighed. "My friend. What is there to be scared of?"

"Everything. With just one word she could send me to hell or heaven. I don't think I can keep her. I mustn't, but I'm too greedy to give her up."

"Then don't." Nadir said simply. "You say you don't think you can keep her, but what you don't realize that this decision isn't yours to make. Christine has her own say in these matters too."

"I know that, but how can she when she does not know the truth? I can't tell her anything, and yet that is what she wants. She wants to _know_, Nadir, and I want nothing more to share my life with her, but it would only make her hate me."

"Then be patient. Love is easy. It is understanding and mysterious."

"Love?" Erik scoffed. "What is love? I shall never have it, and Christine will never feel it for me."

Nadir smiled sadly, tilting his head to one side. "But you feel it for her?"

Erik dropped his head. "Yes. _There_, I admit it. It is true, a demon has fallen for an angel. How pathetic she must think I am. What am I to do? She _must_ love me. If God brought us together, then why would he give her to me if he did not make her love me?"

"Love cannot be forced, Erik. It is grown. It can be the garden of Eden if you tend it well."

"Then tell me how to care for it._ Tell me_." Erik argued, struggling to control himself. "I cannot live without her, and if I were to have her love, her devotion, then I could die quite happily. I would not complain even."

"I do not think you need help, here." Nadir said, smiling. "She is taken with you. You just need to continue doing what you're doing."

"That is not helpful." Erik bemoaned. "Should I get her gifts? More flowers? How did you woo Amira?"

Nadir lost the smile on his face, and stared down into his lap. Erik felt no guilt however, and pressed on. "Did you take her on dates, and give her beautiful things?"

Nadir's eyes had glazed over. "Yes, I did."

"Then tell me, what should I do?"

Nadir was lost in thought, but Erik waited. It had been wrong of him to even speak his dead wife's name, but Erik was curious and desperately needed to know. Nadir lifted his head slowly, his lips pursed in thought.

"Cherish her. Hold onto her, and let it just happen." Nadir had answered, sweating slightly, but Erik didn't think he was answering the right question. He wasn't going to press him again.

Erik grumbled to himself, and excused himself out of the limousine. Nadir needed some time to himself, and Erik buried his face in his hands as he leant against the car. He should never have brought up her name, it would only have caused the man pain, which he didn't need to be reminded of. Erik bit his tongue, as a reminder to watch it carefully, and sighed. Amira had died some time ago, when both Erik and Nadir had been in Iran. She had died of Tuberculosis, attacking her lungs, and she had been in so much pain. Erik could have helped, but by the time Erik had seen her, it was too late. The infection had caused a lesion to erode a blood vessel, and she had bled to death. It had been a gruesome sight, and even Erik had turned away, but Nadir's eyes had been locked on her face, looking very pale and very lost. It had been a terrible shame. While Erik had not known Amira, Nadir's stories about her made him think that he would have liked her enough to be able to stay in the same room as her.

"Erik?" Erik removed his hands from his face, and looked up and to his left, to see Christine standing beside the fire exit, looking worried. Her brow was furrowed, and she took a few steps forward. "Erik, is everything okay?"

Erik wasn't even listening to her. He was only concerned with what Christine was wearing. She was wearing the light blue, lace dress from the night before. Erik felt his heart thump against his chest as his eyes lifted from her black flats, up to her golden ringlets, which had been pushed back from her face with a black velvet headband. She was holding her purse, and Erik watched her as she carried on walking towards him.

"Yes..." Erik sighed as she stood next to him. He could smell her sun lotion, and it brought back memories of Christine relaxing on the yacht. Her bare legs, her soft skin, it was all too much, and his sense went into overdrive as his chest began to rapidly rise and fall. Memories of Amira's dead eyes visited him, and Erik pressed himself harder into the limo, away from Christine. He couldn't see her face, it had been replaced with Amira's, and it made him panic as he clutched desperately onto the car behind him.

"Erik!" She said, placing her hand on his heart, sounding more worried. "You're _not_ okay, what's happened?"

"Nothing, please." Erik said, his head getting very hot and foggy as he tried to wave her away. "I'm ... I just need some fresh air."

Christine still looked at him with concern, and Erik dropped his head so he could look at her hand on his heart. Her grey nails matched her dress, he thought in a haze, and took several calming breaths.

"Erik," She whispered, stepping closer to him, which only made things worse. "Do you need some water? You can drink it in the limo while Nadir and I-"

"No, Christine." Erik interrupted, shaking his head. "I'm fine now."

Though that was a lie, he thought as he bid Christine to re-enter the limousine, and he watched as Christine did so hesitantly, bending over and clambering in. Erik's eyes followed the shape of her back as he towered over her, before climbing in himself. Christine said hello to Nadir, and began chatting with him as Erik tried to clear his head. Nadir was getting him too worked up, though it was hardly his fault. Erik wasn't sure why he had thought of Amira when looking at Christine, but he hoped it would not happen again. It did not seem a particularly good omen.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Not even kidding, this song makes me so happy. I heard it for the first time yesterday, cos I'm constantly on the hunt for new songs, and it made me cry so much. *sob* Also, I've left a poll at the top of my profile page regarding Erik's deformity, it'll only take a minute to answer, and it will help me write a better story for you. If there's any success to the poll, I might put some more up so you can have your input on how the story is written. :D**

**I'm sorry if I don't reply to all of your messages. I do love them, and I all I want to do is answer your questions, but I don't want to spoil anything for anyone else, so , if there are questions that you really do want answered, then feel free to PM me. I won't discuss charactors, plot points, etc here if case someone else wants to keep it as a surprise, but I am happy to talk about them. So feel free to PM me. Otherwise, any other messages will be addressed here.**

**Rosie - Thanks, I guess I'm still learning about writing. I've got the whole story planned out in my head, but I didn't think it would be this challenging! It's your comments though that help me out! I think you're really going to like Christine surprise. It makes me smile whenever I think of it.**

**Kumon5 - Hi sweetie. I know, I'm sorry, I'm such a bad person, but I will try harder, I swear! I miss your PM's by the way. I enjoyed those.**

**BiancaR - You have no idea. It's huge. I'm seriously concerned that there might be a chapter limit, cos this is going to a seriously long story, with loads of drama!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	36. Chapter 36

_**Adele's 'Lovesong**_'

_Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am home again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am whole again_

_Whenever I'm alone with you_  
_You make me feel like I am young again_  
_Whenever I'm alone with you_  
_You make me feel like I am fun again_

_However far away, I will always love you_  
_However long I stay, I will always love you_  
_Whatever words I say, I will always love you_  
_I will always love you_

* * *

Christine felt much like Alice going down the rabbit hole, not quite knowing what to expect, and her appearance certainly matched it. She had looked herself over in front of a very large gold framed mirror, turning this way and that, hoping that Erik would be pleased. She wanted very much to please him, after all of the wonderful things he had shown her, and done for her. If Erik was happy, then so was Christine.

She was glad that she hadn't worn the blue dress the night before, as it was definitely more of a day dress. She wasn't sure why she had bought it, thinking back on it. It had just seemed like a good idea at the time. She had put on some light make-up, just to make her look a little more awake, and after Meg's thumbs up, they had left the room together in bright spirits. Meg excused herself as some garbled message came through on her radio, which only Meg could understand, and Christine felt a little down-heartened that her new friend had to leave so soon. Meg promised that they would chat again later, and they waved to each other merrily as they separated at the lobby, Meg walking overmind towards her desk, whereas Christine went straight to the fire exit. Her heart was thumping again, just thinking that Erik was only a few meters away, thinking of her. Or at least she hoped he was thinking of her. It felt wrong to hope though, she must have been taking up so much of his time, and surely he would have gotten bored with her eventually.

_He has so much work to do, with his music and his architecture. Nadir said he had many talents too, and they must keep him busy. He said Erik was an inventor and illusionist amongst other things. So what magic does Erik see in me?_

A new panic settled over Christine. As she stopped just before the fire exit, she looked over her shoulder towards Meg, and bit her lip. She was busy talking to some security guard, and some person in blue overalls that looked like a mechanic or something. She returned her attention to the door before her, and rested her hands on the metal bar, taking a deep breath.

_He sees something, that's for sure. I know he has a birth defect, but he could have any woman on the planet with his money and talent, and instead he wants to spend his time with me. He even turned down Carlotta._

_But she tried to touch his mask!_ She reasoned. _He won't let anyone touch his mask._

_But I've kissed it. I've kissed it and he hasn't told me to stop. I've even cleaned it, but he doesn't know that._

Christine's mind was racing. Her head was beginning to hurt, and she desperately needed someone to help her. She wished her father could have been there. His words of wisdom would make everything make sense, and he'd know what to do. She felt like she was sinking, and there was nothing to grab onto. Her feelings were getting more and more jumbled up, and it had only been four days since she had first met Erik.

_Four days ago I didn't know him. Now I don't think I can live without him. He feels the same way, doesn't he? He can hardly keep his hands off of me, but that doesn't mean anything. Any man who walks through a desert would drink dirty water. _

That was what Christine felt like when standing next to him. She felt dirty, but when he was with her, she felt clean, and new.

_Let's just get through whatever it is Nadir has planned, and then I can figure everything out later_. She reassured herself, pressing down on the metal bar.

She stepped out into the bright sunshine, a blanket of heat smothering her, and she looked over to see Erik burying his head in his hands as he leaned against the limo. The sun was glinting off his mask, and Christine shielded her eyes from the glare. Erik looked troubled, but that was easy to tell from his stance. She called his name, and he looked up slowly, his hands trembling. She had flown to his side, but he resisted her hands, claiming that he just needed fresh air. She had offered to let him get some water while she and Nadir waited outside of the limo, but he had refused, asking her to step in.

She did as he asked, and gave a quick glance to Nadir, but he seemed distraught too. Just what had happened while she had been away?

"Hello, Christine." Nadir acknowledged, and his steely gaze met hers as Erik followed her in. "You look lovely."

"Thank you." Christine responded quietly. She was watching Erik, who was sitting on her left, staring down at the floor.

He didn't move to touch her, and Christine felt terrible, as though she had somehow caused the misery he was in. She wanted to reach out to him, but she felt that would have been inappropriate. This was clearly something between the two of them.

"Erik, please talk to me." She looked at Nadir, then back to Erik. "Both of you look upset and I want to know if it's something I can help with."

"Christine, it's nothing, I swear." Erik promised, and took her hands. It made her feel better, but she was still worried. "Let us forget about it."

"As you wish." Christine complied, forcing herself not to frown.

The driver set off, and Nadir composed himself, unbuttoning his jacket before he started to play on his phone. Christine smiled awkwardly at Erik, and squeezed his hands. It took him a second, but he squeezed her hand back too.

"I have a few things planned out for the two of you. It shouldn't take too long. Christine, I have sorted out your request. It will be our last stop."

Christine groaned. "Did you tell him?" She turned to Erik. "Did he tell you?"

"I know nothing." Erik said. "He won't tell me a thing. I swear it."

"Good." Christine smiled at Nadir. "So then, where are you taking us?"

Erik looked up at her, and stroked her cheek, making her look up at him with a large grin on her face. "Does it matter?" He asked her, as though her answer was very important.

"Not really." She said with a shrug. "I'm just happy to be out in New York."

"You should enjoy this then. Erik is taking you shopping." Nadir said, giving a stiff smile towards Erik, but his attention was on Christine as he leaned forward, handing her a list of places with scheduled times.

Christine gave a sharp glance towards Nadir, and Erik slowly followed her gaze after he finished reading the list in her hand.

"What did you say?" Erik asked, his grip on Christine tightening as he comprehended what Nadir said.

"I've spoken to several establishments and they've agreed to clear their businesses according to a schedule that I suggest we keep."

Christine frowned, giving a confused laugh. "But why? We don't _need_ to go shopping."

"True, but you'll be in the public view, and it'll look a lot better if you are seen dating instead of just hiding away. It will also bring the two of you a little publicity. Rumors spread when there are no news."

"You're just full of useless sayings, aren't you?" Erik said, his voice like ice.

"I have a calendar that shows a quote for every day, so yes, I do." Nadir said, slowly beginning to smile.

"Why would you buy yourself that?" Erik scoffed.

"I didn't, you did."

"Like hell I did. Why would I give you a calender when you're constantly on your phone?"

"I ask myself that every day, Erik and I still don't know." Nadir laughed.

"This is a _stupid_ idea." Erik replied, irritated as he sat back in his seat. "Surely there are better things we could be doing instead of _shopping_."

"I had hoped we'd go to an art gallery." Christine said softly. "Or something like that. I'm not really a big shopper. I don't usually have the time or the money for it."

Erik's head lifted slightly, and the mask turned slightly towards Nadir, who had a smug smile on his face. "_Ah_."

Erik turned around to Christine, taking both her hands as he rested them in the space between their legs. "Christine, let me treat you then. I will buy you anything you wish. _Anything_."

Christine laughed as she bowed her head. "Erik, I don't _need_ anything."

"Come now, Christine. There must be _something_ you want. Clothes? Jewellery? I could buy you both!" He teased, taking her chin to tilt her head up to meet his face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. It felt good, but she would have preferred him without his gloves.

"I'm not kidding, I really don't need anything." Christine said. "I like the clothes I have, and I love the jewellery I have because of sentimental reasons."

"Then there must be something else!" Erik argued. "_Anything_, Christine. Name it and it will be yours."

Christine made a small noise to show her frustration, and looked at Nadir, making Erik release her chin. "_Nadir_."

Nadir chuckled. "Don't look at me. This is your problem."

Christine let out a breath, rolling her eyes before breaking out into a smirk. "Should have guessed you wouldn't help."

She turned back to Erik, and smiled sweetly. "Erik. You don't need to buy me gifts to impress me. But I'll tell you what, if I see anything that I desperately need, you will be the first to know, okay?"

Erik made a noise too, to show his annoyance, and Christine laughed. He turned to Nadir. "But I thought..."

Nadir cleared his throat to interrupt Erik. "Clearly not."

Christine looked between the two, confused, and asked, "Was it something I said?"

Nadir smiled, returning his attention to his phone. "No, it's alright. Just something we discussed earlier."

"...Okay." Christine said shakily, smiling unsurely at Erik before returning her gaze to the list in her lap. "So, where are we going first?"

"I thought Tiffanys first, then Louis Vuitton, Chanel and so on. The Chocolate Room as well, so you can sample some things." Nadir said.

Christine fidgeted in her seat. "Chocolate Room?"

Erik looked up. "Would you like that? Chocolate?"

Christine grinned. "_Yeah!_"

Erik laughed, sounding very relieved. "Good. I will buy you all the chocolate you could ever wish for! Erik shall fill this entire limousine with boxes and-"

Christine laughed, grabbing his arms as he waved them about wildly. His mood had improved, Christine was happy to see, and she joined in with him.

"You can't!" Christine laughed, lowering his arms. "We'll suffocate! One sudden turn and we'll have an avalanche!"

Erik gathered her up in his arms. "Then I'll just have to hold onto you so I don't lose you."

Christine's breath caught in her throat, Erik's strong arms holding her tightly against him, one arm around her ribs, the other around her waist. Erik's voice was teasing, but Christine felt the air change. It was as though her blood was flowing faster, or something had clicked in her head, but either way, she knew she no longer felt confused. She felt so different around Erik, she felt bolder, more attuned to the world around her, but this relationship was nothing she had ever encountered before. Erik had become so dependant on her, and she felt awful for just thinking it, but it was nice. It was a strange, guilty feeling, but Christine felt whole knowing someone she loved needed her just as much as she needed him.

_Love? _Christine thought in shock. _Where did that come from?_

She looked up at Erik, who was watching her think. She wished she could have seen his face so she could know what he was thinking. She felt she could have been a mind reader if she saw his eyes, as his mask was so difficult to read. If she could only see if he was smiling, then she'd feel much better. It was a horrible thing, his mask, and she was beginning to resent it.

_It's not love, it can't be. It's been four days_. She stressed, trying to make herself see sense.

"Christine, are you alright?" I'm not hurting you, am I?" Erik asked, loosening his grip on her.

_You're being silly. This is nothing more than hopeful wishing._ _You're looking for love where there is only desire._ Christine wanted to silence the multitude of excuses jumping in her head, and realized Erik had asked her something.

"No, never." Christine answered automatically, but looked up, sensing that her subconscious reply was trying to tell her something. She met Erik's cold, unmoving eyes. "You'd never hurt me."

She had answered him so seriously that even Nadir looked up from his phone.

"_Christine_..." Erik cried, the pad of his thumb tracing her jawline. His voice had been pleading, begging her for something, but Christine had no clue what he needed, and she sighed.

"Will you be okay?" She asked, lowering her head, closing her eyes as she felt a serene calm wash over her. She was expecting more excuses but instead there was nothing. "There's sure to be photographers and other people there. You don't have to do this."

"It will be hard, but I shall manage." Erik said, a little stiffly, but it wasn't enough to make Christine worried.

"Are you sure? You could always wait in here and-"

"_No_, Christine. I want to. You'll be there with me, and that's all I will ever need."

Christine looked up. "That's all you need? To just stand beside me? Can you be happy with that?"

Erik said nothing, watching her. Christine chose not to say anything, and she felt chilled by the awkward silence. They continued staring at each other, Christine occasionally blinking. It didn't feel strange to look at him so openly now. She could sense there was something Erik was trying to hide from her, but she didn't know what. It could have been anything, and she would never know. She wanted to blame the mask, but she wasn't sure if she could.

"I would be very happy to stand beside you." He said pressing a hand to her hair. "Very happy."

Christine smiled, but still felt uneasy. Erik must have seen the look on her face as he suddenly asked. "And you? You would tell me if you were unhappy, wouldn't you?"

Christine didn't need to force a smile. "Have I complained yet?"

Erik's voice seemed doubtful. "No..."

"Then stop worrying. You're doing fine." Christine said. She began to rise up against him to leave a kiss on the corner of the mask's lips, but she was overcome with shyness, and instead left it on his cheek.

Christine pulled away, smiling with embarrassment as she bit her lip, but stopped once she saw she had left a trace of her lip gloss on the mask's cheek. She stared in alarm at the pink shiny imprint, and her eyes flickered to his. She had felt bold enough to clean his mask when he had been asleep, but now that he was awake, it was an entirely different situation.

"Um..." Christine murmured. "Hold on."

She turned in her seat, opened her purse and pulled out a plastic pouch filled with tissues. She removed a tissue, tugging on it to separate it from the other folded up tissues, and she turned back to hand it to him. Erik was holding his hand out before him, staring down at it, and Christine could see her lip gloss on the tips of his fingers. He must have touched it to see what had startled her, she thought.

"Oh, um. Maybe _I_ ought to do it?" She said, taking his hand and began to wipe away the smudged make-up. Erik only watched her, his fingers twitching as she held each finger and rubbed away any slick spots she found. She turned up to his mask, her hand hovering in the air as she reached up to clean it, but he flinched as sharply drew himself away from her, sucking in a deep breath through his teeth.

Christine stopped moving, and sat back in her seat. She tried to ignore her hurt feelings, but Erik leaned forward after a moment. He was watching her, his hand shakily reaching out for the one that held the tissue and he lightly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Christine watched, hardly daring to breath as he guided her hand to his mask. She moved with him slowly, and it was a few seconds before he released her hand, his whole body stiff, and Christine's hand hovered a few inches from the mask's cheek.

"You'd never hurt me." He echoed. He sounded scared, Christine thought sadly.

Christine smiled with reassurance, and brought her other hand up to place it on his other cheek. She adjusted herself in her seat until she fully turned towards him, and held his head still as she began to slowly clean her mess. Erik's hands appeared around her head as he began to adjust her headband. She only smiled, which became a smirk as they continued to groom each other, and Christine could feel the bond between them tighten. Erik brushed her hair with his fingers, bringing some of her ringlets to rest over her shoulders and down her chest, and the rest was pushed back so it fell down along her back. Christine had finished with her little job, and got a new tissue to wipe away any dust or smudges she saw, though there was nothing, she just wanted to touch him intimately. Nadir was watching the two of them, Christine was sure, but her attention was solely on Erik. He had given her his trust, and she did not want to waste any chance he gave her. That, and she suspected that Erik would have stopped if she did, and she was sure, without a doubt, that she never wanted him to stop. There was no questioning it now. The red string of fate had tied them together. She was in love with Erik.

* * *

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	37. Chapter 37

_**Lee Brice's 'These Last Few Days**_'

_These last few days_  
_What can I say_  
_You've had me thinkin' in circles_  
_In crazy not like me ways_  
_My favorite thing_  
_Lately has been waking up with you_  
_Talkin ourselves to sleep again_

_Baby come a little closer_  
_Let me lay some nibble kisses on your shoulder_  
_You said that's your favorite place_  
_Baby maybe we could borrow_  
_Find a way to bag and_  
_Steal a few tomorrows and stay_  
_Here in these last few days_

_These last few days_  
_Have blown me away_  
_The thought of letting go,_  
_And falling_  
_Is actually feeling okay_  
_I must confess_  
_I need some rest_  
_But with every touch_  
_I swear the better it seems to get_

* * *

With Christine back at his side, Erik felt a little more whole. The sight of Christine's face replaced by Amira's had been enough to terrify him, and the thought of a dead Christine gave him such terrible shivers. He had to compose himself once Christine got into her seat, and he had followed after her numbly, trying to wake himself from the nightmare that threatened him. Christine could tell there was something wrong, and she tried to ask, but he had silenced her, promising her it was nothing, but he had been lying. If he said a single word about Amira, then that would only lead to more questions, which would lead to _more_ questions about his past, and he could not have that. Christine squeezed his hand, to show she understood, and he squeezed her back, his eyes tracing her face as she smiled sadly.

Nadir had then introduced a schedule, handing it to Christine. Erik saw the sense in that, Christine would probably recognize most of the establishments, and handing the list to him would have been useless. It wouldn't have mattered to Erik anyhow, he didn't care where Nadir took them, as long as Christine continued to be her cheery, delightful self. Erik had been hoping that Nadir would suggest just driving around New York, letting Erik point things out to her and hold her so sweetly, but he knew it wouldn't be that. Nadir wanted them both in the limelight, and Erik was sure that Nadir was overjoyed at the thought of Erik getting media attention and a little publicity so he wasn't too surprised to learn that '_Erik_' was taking Christine shopping. The nerve of him.

Erik wasn't overly fond of the idea. It meant interacting with people other than Nadir and Christine. The party had been bearable, he had been under the impression that there would be no cameras, and there was only a small group, but being outside, away from any shadows or nooks and crannies where he could hide was nerve-wrecking. He would have to hold onto Christine very tightly to make sure he did not lose himself...

Christine didn't seem that interested in shopping. She had expressed her interest in attending an art gallery, and Erik could see her standing amongst the other works of art. She would be heavenly. She deserved to be in the Louvre, right next to the Mona Lisa. She told them about how shopping wasn't an interest of hers, as she never had time or money, and Erik had realized that this was his chance to court Christine. Erik had looked up at Nadir, and saw the same thought had passed his mind. He could buy her gifts that would impress her, and he could show her his affections in a safe, controlled way. Erik had turned to her with renewed vigor, and offered her the world, but she turned it down. He argued there must have been something she wanted, but she was adamant that there was nothing. Erik was beginning to get frustrated. Why was she not accepting his gifts? Was he doing it wrong? Was there some rule of etiquette that Erik had missed? Why was she doing this? This was what women wanted, wasn't it? To have endless gifts paraded before them, theirs for the taking?

Christine was getting annoyed too, and tried to ask Nadir for help, but Nadir was enjoying the entertainment that they provided for him and refused to help. Christine didn't seem too surprised by that reaction, and turned back to Erik, swearing if if she saw anything she wanted, she would tell him. This only annoyed Erik further. Why wasn't she letting him woo her? Erik turned to Nadir, he thought that expensive gifts would charm Christine, but Nadir interrupted him before he could finish his question, sounding puzzled too. Christine only looked more confused, but let it go when she turned her attention to the list.

Nadir began listing off some places they would be going to, and Erik could see on the list in Christine's lap that each place has designated time slots, allowing a break for lunch, and Christine didn't react to any of the names, until one word made her leg twitch. Erik felt it against his own leg, and he grinned triumphantly to himself. So Christine had a sweet tooth? Erik asked her if she would enjoy chocolate, and she excitedly agreed, her whole face lighting up, her animated eyes meeting his. Erik could feel his heart swell as he understood that Christine would never want expensive gifts from him. She would want little tokens of affections, sweet, romantic things. All of her actions up until this moment proved that. She wanted him to hold her, and she wanted to bake him goodies and dance with him. He would give her all of those things if that was what she wanted. He would give them freely, every day if she let him. Erik couldn't help but stare Christine in wonder. How good she was, how gentle, how filled with light and love she was, these thoughts raced through his mind as he proclaimed that the entire limo would be filled with every kind of sweet she could ever want. Christine ignored the slip of his tongue, and she raised her tiny hands to grab fistfuls of his jacket, joining in with his mirth as she joked with him. She looked so beautiful, laughing with him, as Erik took the chance to hold him against him. She did not protest, but rather she sat in astonishment, staring out of the window. Erik could feel her heartbeat through her dress, her rib pressed hard against his, and he stared in confusion as it began to elevate. A rosy blush came over Christine's cheeks, spreading to her ears and around her neck, and he wondered what Christine was thinking. She looked up at him slowly, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as a serious look appeared on her face. She was staring at him, her hands pressed to his chest, pushing against him to hold herself up, and Erik could see in her eyes, that she was thinking about him.

Erik didn't want her to think about him. She could have been thinking anything, and by the look on her face, she was seriously questioning something, and he tried to bring her out of her deep thought by asking her something and arranged his grip on her. She had answered automatically, still trying to think through something, but then she blinked, and looked up at him with a new emotion. He couldn't place it, and Erik began to wish that he _had_ spent time around other people, he felt he could have been a mind reader if he had. Her next few words were genuine, Erik could see that. She honestly trusted him never to hurt her. She _trusted_ him. Erik felt as though his heart had stopped, and he held her face so gently, to prove he would never hurt her. He would rather die than see her hurt.

The topic had changed back to the photographers, and Erik thought his heart had stopped for an entirely different reason. He didn't want Christine to see how scared he was. Hundreds of eyes on his mask made him feel very caged, and when Erik felt cornered, he often lashed out, hurting anything in his path, but he would not let that happen today. He would be on his best behavior in front of Christine, as she only deserved the very best. He wouldn't talk to anyone, he wouldn't even acknowledge their presence. He would just keep his eye on Christine, making sure she came to no trouble or harm, and he would be safe. She was his talisman, his idol, and he would serve her, just as she protected him.

Christine asked if he would be happy, to just stand beside her, and Erik couldn't even put into words the thoughts that entered his head when spoke of standing beside him. He would not scare her with his hopes of white dresses and golden rings, and repeated her words back to her. She smiled, and told him that she was happy as well, and Erik felt at peace. She lifted herself up to kiss him, and Erik could feel from the pressure against his mask that her lips were glossy by the way her lips easily glided over the surface. She pulled away, smiling shyly, but she stopped when she saw something on his mask. She stammered for a second, her eyes meeting his, and turned to her purse to retrieve something.

Erik lifted a hand to his mask to touch the lip gloss he knew would be there. It was proof that her lips had touched him, though not quite. He could pretend that if he had no mask to stop her, she would have left a kiss there anyway, and his cheek burned with that damnable thought. She would definitely have not kissed him, and it was wrong to fantasize about such a thing. He shouldn't even have imagined the wicked delight that had plagued him since birth. The one gift that he desired above all else was forbidden to him. Christine would never kiss him, she would never touch her saintly skin against his if she knew the extent of his deformity. He pulled his hand away from his mask, and stared at his fingers. There was pink, sparkly lip gloss on his gloves, on the very tips of his fingers, and it killed him to think that this gloss had touched his Christine in a way that he never would. The night before, when he had tormented himself with the softness of her lips had been a one time deal, he would never touch her inappropriately again. He would not even recognize what he had done to her in his bedroom. That had been base and degrading, and he hated himself for taking such liberties with her sleeping body.

Erik hadn't realized that Christine was cleaning his gloves. He was vaguely aware that Christine was holding his hands, but he had been too caught up in his own thoughts to realize that Christine was raising a tissue to his mask. He blinked as something caught the corner of his eye, and he pulled away suddenly out of impulse. It had always been that way. Whenever people had reached for his mask, it had been to punish him, to give him pain, to make him suffer. His natural instinct was to hide and run, but he hadn't intended to let Christine see how vulnerable he felt about his mask. Christine looked hurt, despite trying not to and Erik wanted to apologize profusely. He knew she hadn't been trying to hurt him, but he still felt reluctance about her interacting with the mask as though it was nothing important. That morning, when she had cleaned his mask had been interesting to watch, but Erik could see that the more interest she took in the mask, the more she would want to remove it. Every woman would, if they were in the same place as her.

But Christine wasn't like every other woman. She trusted him. She trusted him to look after her, and she trusted him to never hurt her. He would not fail her. He needed to show Christine that he trusted her too. He took her hand, much to her surprise, as he raised her hand to his mask, stopping a few inches away before he released her. He tried not to show the fear that had been ingrained into him from a young age, and tried to tell her that he knew she would never hurt him either, but he wasn't sure she understood, as she only stared at him for a few seconds blankly. But she smiled in the end, her eyes warm and comforting, and she positioned herself closer to him, kneeling before him, her feet curled up behind her as her body pressed against him, and she held his mask carefully as she took her time cleaning it. She was very thorough, and he could tell she was trying to be as gentle as she could. Erik's eyes were drawn to her face, which was concentrated on his mask and not him, and Erik dared himself to copy her and groom her. She did not object, and she giggled whenever his gloves brushed against the skin around her neck as he pulled her ringlets over her shoulders. He altered the headband she wore that kept her hair away from her face, and her blue eyes looked up at him. Erik hadn't realized she had stopped cleaning his mask, as he had been too focused on touching her hair. He had stopped, disappointed that their little game had finished, but she said nothing, still watching him. His hands were trembling as he watched them tuck some strands of her golden curls behind her ear, and his eyes shot straight to Christine's. She smiled again, encouraging him to go on, and he did, adjusting the odd hair as he felt was necessary, until Nadir cleared his throat.

"We'll be there in a few minutes." He said, tugging at the crumpled schedule that was held fast between their legs, and he stared at it, glowering.

Christine pulled away, lowering her gaze as she sucked on her lips, hiding them from view. "Um, so, any advice, Nadir?"

Nadir looked up, holding out the creased paper. "Keep to the schedule and you'll be fine."

"Yes," Christine agreed, taking the paper from him. "But this is our first public date. Surely there's a some kind of procedure to this?"

"I think that as long as you don't react to the cameras, you can take this however you want. There will be security there, but you won't need to speak to them." Nadir explained. "Just ignore everyone and it'll be fine."

"I don't know if I can do that." Christine said doubtfully. "It's rather rude to ignore someone when they're standing right there."

"You're going to have to learn, then." Nadir said, firmly, but in a caring way as he smiled towards her. "You _have_ to be unemotional towards them, or it will just overwhelm you."

Christine didn't look too impressed, but she nodded. "Okay, I'll try."

Erik wanted to chuckle, Christine was too polite for her own good. He wasn't sure if that had just been the way she had been raised by her father, whether it was because she was British or whether it was just the way she was. Either way, he liked it about her. The car pulled over onto the sidewalk, and Christine looked up, interested as she tried to peer out of the tinted windows. She looked through the windows, twisting in the seat to see through the rear window and out the other side of the limo. Erik looked out too, though he wasn't as interested. He could see Tiffany's had been cleared, as there were already a few photographers there, as well as some curious passerby's, who were wondering who was about to step out with their cellphones already aimed at the limousine door. It was a smaller crowd than he expected, and he was grateful, but it would only build up the longer they spent there.

"_Oh_, we're near Central Park, aren't we?" Christine asked excitedly, turning around to look at Erik from over her shoulder.

"Yes, I believe so." Erik answered as he watched the driver leave his seat and come to open the door for them.

"Cool." Christine whispered to herself, taking Erik's hand as she smiled at him. "You know it was the first landscaped park in America, and it's been in over 250 films?"

The door opened, and Erik resisted the urge to slam it shut. "Another leaflet on the plane?" Erik asked, recalling how Christine had enjoyed recalling the facts she knew about the Statue of Liberty.

"Yeah. There were a few. I thought they'd be useful for my videos." Christine said, smiling. Already, Erik could hear the clicking of cameras and the excited gossiping, and Erik wished he didn't have to step out of his bubble.

"Go on, you'll be okay." Nadir assured. "Just keep to the schedule, _please_."

Christine laughed as Erik nodded, and he gave her hand another squeeze as he started to exit the car as gracefully as he could. Christine was still holding onto him, and was crawling across the seats on her knees, reaching out with her other hand to grab the car door to steady herself as she stepped out. Erik watched her, and was trying to ignore the raised voices and the camera flashes. It only gave him a headache, and why did they need to use such a bright flashes when it was a perfectly sunny day? Erik was already sweating, but Christine seemed cool and collected as she tilted her head back to stare at the large, towering buildings. She shielded her eyes against the sun, and grinned at him. Erik smiled back as she intertwined their fingers, and he pulled her away from the car as the driver shut the door, giving a smile to Christine and a nod to Erik. Erik ignored him, but Christine seemed to be struggling with such an easy task. She pursed her lips, and nodded stiffly, but broke out into a smile when Erik turned his head away. She must have thought that he couldn't see her, and that he would scold her if he had caught her. Erik rolled his eyes, smiling as he began to enter the store, still claiming Christine's hand. Christine ended up following behind him, a few steps behind, and it must have looked terrible, Erik thought. It would look like he was just dragging her around, and he groaned to himself as he approached the entrance to Tiffany's.

"Let's get a picture of the happy couple!" Rang out a single voice in the crowd that managed to stop Erik in his tracks.

Christine collided into his shoulder, giving a small 'Oof!', but she laughed it off, rubbing her forehead as he looked down and to his right to see her standing close to him. She was grinning, but stopped as she asked,

"Erik, is everything okay?"

"I thought... I thought I heard..." Erik looked up, trying to find the person who had spoken, and his eyes locked on a small, rotund man who was standing quite close to them, being held back by a security guard.

Erik's hands twitched at the sight of Joseph Buquet. The only photographer in the world whose sole purpose was to document every aspect of his personal life. He was paid handsomely for every story he managed to sell, and as it was a lucrative business, Buquet never bothered with any other celebrity. It was as though he took some kind of pride in exposing every little detail of Erik's life, and he would never be satisfied until he got the one big scoop. The unmasking of Erik's face.

"Oh damn." Erik whispered, still staring at the ruddy faced rat, who was still aiming his camera at the two of them.

Buquet was not a pleasant man, and Erik had done enough research on the vermin's past to know that this man was best to avoid, good advice for anyone, he thought, as Buquet took any means necessary to get what he wanted. It was only because of Erik's contacts with most broadcasting companies that he had managed to keep the more personal stories from ever reaching the tabloids. Buquet resented him because of it, and did his best to destroy any bit of happiness Erik had. It would be him who would destroy everything.

_Christine will protect me. She won't let me get hurt. So I must be good for her._ It was his mantra, his solemn vow. Erik needed to prove he could be more than an attentive protector, he could be strong for her, he could be a man.

Christine looked over her shoulder and found who he was staring at. Joseph blew her a kiss, taking a few shots, and she cringed, turning back to Erik. "Okay, he's a bit creepy."

Erik's blood was sizzling. The thought of Buquet even speaking to Christine was something that he was not willing to risk. "Yes, he is. Would you like to go in now?" Erik asked, putting on a brave tone as he opened the door for her. Her thumb rubbed his, and she smiled, nodding meekly.

Christine smiled, lowering her head slightly. "Sure."

Erik let her step in first, the cooling blast of air conditioning blowing her hair out behind her like a cape, and Erik tried to smile as he followed her in, now ending up as the person being led forward. He should have realized that Buquet would have seized this opportunity to spy on Erik. Erik stared down at Christine, who was waiting for him to speak. She was holding his hand with both of hers now, smiling at him, and Erik raised his hand to hold her face, making her close her eyes and sigh quite happily. She opened her eyes again, and grinned, showing her perfect teeth, and Erik dropped his hand. Buquet couldn't change her feelings, could he? He did not have that power, he couldn't have. God wouldn't have given him Christine if she could be so easily taken away from him. Erik sighed as well, it seemed there was a steadily growing mountain of problems. How did Christine manage to look so happy and carefree? How was she dealing with all of the new sensations and feelings and thoughts. Wasn't this scary to her? Wasn't she in a the slightest bit thrown off? But no, she just floated through life, adapting to everything, being friendly to everyone and everyone being friendly back to her. With any luck, maybe it would rub off on him.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Okay, for those who want to know the results of the poll, I'll be leaving it up one more day, so those of you who haven't done the poll, all you need to do is go to my profile, at the top of the page there is a poll, answer truthfully, and I will announce the results tomorrow!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	38. Chapter 38

_**David Archuleta's 'Crush'**_

_I hung up the phone tonight_  
_Something happened for the first time_  
_Deep inside_  
_It was a rush_  
_What a rush_  
_'Cause the possibility_  
_That you would ever feel the same way_  
_About me_  
_It's just too much_  
_Just too much_

_Why do I keep running from the truth?_  
_All I ever think about is you_  
_You got me hypnotized_  
_So mesmerized_  
_And I've just got to know_

_Do you ever think_  
_When you're all alone_  
_All that we could be?_  
_Where this thing could go?_  
_Am I crazy or falling in love?_  
_Is it real or just another crush?_  
_Do you catch a breath_  
_When I look at you?_  
_Are you holding back_  
_Like the way I do?_  
_  
_

* * *

Standing outside Tiffanys with a growing number of people watching the both of them, taking photos and talking amongst themselves, was an odd feeling.

It had nothing to do with the building itself, there were plenty of those around, and the large, blank walls and bland colours reminded Christine of the high street back home. All of London was beautiful to Christine, with so many colours and activities and interesting people, and New York was beautiful in its own way, but it wasn't anything she _hadn't_ seen before. This street they were on, looked more or less the same as the luxury shops back in London. She wanted to be out amongst the crowd, exploring for herself, discovering hidden gems and making wonderful memories. Not that she didn't like being shown around by Erik, but seeing New York had been her only thought when she had been sitting on the plane. The people surrounding her now didn't worry her, they were only curious to see what was happening, and she could hardly blame them for that. She wasn't even nervous when she thought of the photographers. They weren't actually interested in the both of them, they just wanted some decent shots of them so they could sell them, which was fine, they were only going to be shots of Christine and Erik standing next to another, talking and having fun. It wasn't anything too personal.

Erik was still holding her hand, his fingers slipping between hers as he pulled her forward, ignoring the photographers. After giving a quick smile to John, after Christine was sure that Erik couldn't see him, she followed after him, a few steps behind. Erik stopped, and Christine fell into his right side, bumping her forehead against his stiff shoulder. Christine laughed it off though, but she could see that something had distracted Erik. He was looking around for something, and he must have found what he was looking for, as his mask stopped moving and was aimed towards something. Christine took a look for herself. Everyone was looking at them, but there was one person who was paying them a lot of attention, his large grubby hands reaching out to aim a camera closer to them, a scratchy looking moustache rolled up into a ball as he blew what looked like a kiss at her. Christine didn't know who he was, but his leering gaze and ruddy cheeks suggested that she didn't want to know him any better. Christine voiced her opinion, quietly so the man couldn't hear her, and looked up at Erik, expecting him to be very angry, but Erik was surprisingly calm. He showed her in, and Christine sighed with pleasure as a rush of cold air came to greet her. She turned to face him, and felt very proud of him. Erik was doing very well, but he was holding onto her really tightly. He must have felt comforted by her, and Christine took both of his hands, beaming up at him as he watched her. He raised a hand to hold her face, and she closed her eyes. She pretended it was his hands, without the gloves that comforted her. She wondered if they still hurt him, but if they did, he didn't show it.

A tall man, in his 50's Christine judged, dressed impeccably approached the two of them, followed by a younger gentleman who was holding a silver platter with one glass and a bottle of champagne. Christine looked around, there was no-one else in the store. It was weird, but kind of reassuring, and she turned to both men with a grin on her face as Erik wrapped his arm around her waist possessively.

"We're so glad to have you here today. I am Robert, and I will be at your service, if there is anything I can do, please let me know. Anthony here will bring you whatever you wish to eat or drink, but for now we have a complimentary bottle of champagne for you to enjoy." The tall man said respectfully.

He had directed the last sentence towards Christine, as it was obvious that it was intended for her. Anthony didn't say anything, quite openly staring at Erik's mask, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Erik's grip on her waist tightened, and Christine cleared her throat, making Robert look over his glasses, and cleared his voice as well to get the man's attention. Anthony woke up from whatever daydream he was having, and bashfully apologized. Erik said nothing, still holding onto her waist.

"Thanks but I'm okay." She said, smiling awkwardly.

Erik looked at her and sighed. "Christine, you cannot keep refusing food and drink if I am not eating as well."

Christine laughed. "Erik, I'm not refusing anything, I'm just not keen on the idea of drinking alcohol in the early afternoon. There's a time and place for alcohol and drinking in front of photographers probably isn't one of those times."

She held the hand that was on her waist lightly, and turned to the gentlemen who had been addressed as Anthony. "Thanks, but if we need you, we'll let you know."

Anthony nodded, and left them alone with Robert, looking very happy to hide in the back.

"What would you like to look at first?" Robert asked, guiding them over to the ladies section.

"I think we shall browse for ourselves." Erik said, looking around idly.

"Very well. I shall be right there if you need anything." Robert replied, pointing over to the counter.

"Thank you." Christine said, before Erik pulled her away to some some glittering cabinet as far away from the cameras as he could manage, while still keeping to the ladies section.

"Erik!" She laughed, glancing out of the windows, where a line of photographers were snapping as many photos as they could from their angle.

Erik squeezed her hand, saying nothing as he stared down at her.

"Take a look." Erik said, looking away from her.

Christine smiled, and glanced at the various shiny necklaces, bending over to get a closer look. They were beautiful, but Christine still wasn't interested. She looked at them politely however. They _were_ lovely, each little diamond or jewel was certainly something to behold, but she couldn't help noticing the price tags. It was all very expensive, and she felt guilty just looking at it.

"Don't you like it?" Erik asked as Christine stood up straight.

"They're all very handsome, but I'm happy to just window shop." Christine said, looking around at the rest of the store.

"Window shop?" Erik asked, sounding very confused by the idea.

"Yeah," Christine said, turning back to Erik. "It's where you do the whole shopping experience, but don't buy anything. You go in, try on clothes, or whatever, and then you don't buy it. It's fun, and you don't end up regretting purchasing anything."

"Are you suggesting I would regret buying you something?" Erik asked.

"No, Erik, it's just for most people, they buy something they think will make them happy, and in that moment just before they pay for it, they are happy, but they get home and wonder why they ever made such a purchase. I've done it plenty of times. So window shopping just removes the guilt. It's nothing against you. I was just trying to point out that I'm happy not to get anything."

"Christine," Erik pleaded. "You _must_ let me get you something. I _insist_."

Christine sighed. _He isn't going to let this go. What does he think this will achieve?  
_

"Erik, I-"

"_Christine_, please." Erik murmured softly, using his voice to charm her in the tone that made her want to cry.

Christine only stared at him, breathing deeply. "_Fine_. But I don't think it's fair that you get to use that voice." She complained, an annoyed smirk on her face.

Erik was practically buzzing, his energy tripling as he looked around excitedly, his mask turning about wildly. "Tell me, Christine. What would you like?"

"I'd rather you pick." Christine said, giving a tired smile.

Erik looked down at her. "Me?"

"Well yeah, you're paying for it. That, and you'll be the one looking at it." Christine said, shrugging. "Don't go crazy though, okay?"

"You _make_ me crazy Christine," Erik said softly. "I want everyone to know how crazy you make me."

Christine shyly looked up at him. He was watching for her reaction. "You make me crazy too."

Erik squeezed her hand once more, and Christine chuckled, glancing over to the photographers again. She smiled at them, and another round of shots were taken. She yawned, raising a hand to cover her mouth, and turned back to Erik, who had peered over his shoulder and grunted at the lot of them.

"Right, you go pick something then. I'm just gonna wander around." Christine said, trying to hide her boredom.

Erik nodded slowly, raising her hand to the mask's lips and pressed her knuckles to them, as though he was kissing them. "I won't be long."

Christine smiled, shrugging. "Take your time. According to Nadir's schedule we have thirty minutes."

Erik snickered. "Yes, Nadir's _schedule_. How long do you think he would wait if we didn't come back out in thirty minutes?"

"I don't know but I wouldn't risk it, and I wouldn't test his patience, either." Christine laughed, looking out of the windows towards the limousine. She wondered what Nadir was doing. Probably playing with his phone. Christine hoped he wasn't getting too bored in there by himself, but he did have John on the intercom though if he needed him.

Erik clutched her hand tightly, and then released it, watching Christine as he stepped around her. "If there's anything you see-"

"-If I desperately need it, I'll let you know." Christine finished, and turned back to the cabinet, rolling her eyes. At first, she heard nothing, but then Erik's footsteps told her that he was walking away, and she smiled.

She hoped Erik would be okay. He still seemed rather frantic, and bent all out of shape. Her heartbeat had slowed since Erik had left her side, but she could still feel him with her, which felt strange to think, as he wasn't _that_ far from her. She looked at him through the reflection of the glass. He was darting around, noting different pieces of jewellery, waving his hands in frustration at any that didn't please him, keeping to the women's section. It was funny to watch, and it made her happy to see Erik so cheerful and content.

She wandered around the rest of the store, taking her time as she looked at watches, rings, charms and to her surprise, sunglasses. She occasionally called out to Erik, pointing out the things she was looking at, and Erik sometimes called out to her, asking if she preferred silver or gold, to which she replied silver, or whether she would like diamonds, and to that she said no, with a smile on her face.

_It's just a shame we have to put up with these lot though. _Christine thought, looking over to the photographers.

She spied the short, tubby fellow that had blown her a kiss from earlier, and she watched him, pursing her lips. He did not look like a nice person. Was there something about this particular photographer Erik didn't like or was it just all photographers? The man wiggled his fingers at her, waving at her as though she was a gorilla in the zoo.

_Be polite, Christine. _She thought, before grimly smiling and waving back. She knew Nadir had told her to ignore them, but it was hard when they were all looking right at her.

"Christine!" Erik called from across the store.

Christine turned in her place, looking over at Erik, who was staring at the man behind the glass. The man caught Erik looking at him, and smiled horribly, making Christine feel very uncomfortable.

"Who is that guy? Do you know him?" Christine asked, slowly walking over to join Erik.

"I do, unfortunately." Erik said, sighing.

"Well who is he?" She looked over her shoulder. "Who does he work for?"

"Himself." Erik answered. "His name is Joseph Buquet. He is a freelance photographer with a _speciality_."

"Oh?" Christine asked. "And what is that?"

"_Me_." Erik muttered darkly, gripping the sides of a glass cabinet he stood behind. He was hunched over, his chest rising and falling. He looked very hurt, and Christine felt pity for him.

"Oh." Christine answered softly. She walked around the cabinet, and placed her hand on top of his. "Well, now it's _us_."

Erik's mask shot up. "No..._No_, you don't _understand_. He will never leave us alone. He wants to unmask me, Christine, in front of the whole world. He wants all of the publicity and he won't care about who gets in his way. He tried to bribe Nadir, and then tried to deport him when he refused."

Christine stood in shock, her mouth gaping open. "How horrible!"

"You must never talk to him." Erik commanded.

Christine nodded. "I didn't want to before, but now I definitely don't want to."

"Good. You must ignore him, no matter what he says. He will try and trick you, but you must not listen to him." Erik said, his voice getting more strained.

"I _won't_, Erik." Christine reassured, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "I doubt I'll ever even see him again."

"Oh Christine," Erik sighed. "He will find you. He will wait until you are alone and he will corner you. Do not doubt him."

"But I don't understand, why don't you just get a restraining order?"

"Because has done no physical harm to me." Erik groaned. "I can do nothing until then."

Christine wrapped her arms around his right arm, crossing over each other as she held herself fast to him. "Please don't worry, Erik. He can't do anything to us in here." She proclaimed proudly.

Erik shot a glance towards Joseph Buquet, who had his camera to the level of his eyes. "Yes, Christine," He answered dutifully.

Erik's voice didn't sound so reassuring, and Christine pressed a kiss to his shoulder to help ease his mind. She turned her attention to the cabinet he had been looking in, and tried to change the subject of conversation as she released his arm. There were various silver bracelets, surrounded by matching earrings and necklaces. Christine couldn't help but feel a little excited now. No-one had ever bought her jewellery before, and she wanted to see what Erik had chosen, if anything. "Do you see anything you like?"

Erik lowered his head. He glanced at Christine, but pointed at a thin, silver bracelet with interlinking rings. There was one ring that had been twisted into an infinity loop, and Erik raised his head.

"This one."

"It's beautiful."

"I didn't go crazy." Erik said, his tone of voice slowly warming up.

Christine laughed. "No, you certainly didn't." But then she saw the price tag and groaned. "It's $2,000, Erik."

"How very observant of you, Christine." Erik teased, waving over the tall bespectacled man by the counter.

Erik took her hand with one of this, and rubbed them, excitedly, almost jumping in place as Robert joined them, and Erik clicked his fingers and pointed at the bracelet, making Christine want to laugh. Robert unlocked the cabinet, and Christine gave in to her innermost feelings and stared up at Erik with an inexcusable large grin.

"I should take you shopping more often if I see a smile as beautiful as that." Erik said, taking her chin as he stepped to one side.

"I can't help it. No-one's bought me jewellery before. I'm trying to be really cool here." Christine laughed.

"Every woman should be treated to the finer things in life." Robert said, his American accent sounding confident as he lifted up a blue velvet pillow which held the bracelet, and presented it to Erik, who was studying him seriously. "It is surprising to hear that you have never been treated as such."

Erik took the bracelet carefully with one hand, and took Christine's left hand. "She has _me_ now." Erik said coldly as he wrapped the cool metal around her wrist.

Christine smiled, thanking Robert, and she returned her gaze to Erik, who was sealing the clasp on the bracelet, and held her hand, his thumb drifting across the silver links. She smiled, Erik's delighted murmurs under his breath telling her that he was thrilled. She couldn't tell what he was saying, and from the look on Robert's face, he didn't know either, looking a little disturbed by Erik's actions.

"Erik," She cooed softly. "Do you like it?"

"Yes." Erik whispered. "Erik likes it."

Robert looked away, frowning, and Christine shot him a dirty look, though he couldn't see it.

Erik saw her glance, and pulled himself together. "_We'll take it_." Erik ordered, making the man jump.

Christine giggled, and they both watched as the man nodded lazily, looking a lot more relaxed as he wandered over to counter, with Christine and Erik strolling along behind him at a slow pace. Erik had moved to stand on the other side of Christine, shielding her from the cameras, and wrapped her arm around his, so that her hand was resting on top of his, the bracelet hanging loosely from her wrist, dropping down onto Erik's wrist. Christine couldn't help but blush, the metal warming against her skin, as she felt very hot standing next to Erik, despite the air conditioning. She felt as though she was standing in the middle of the desert, and she was holding a single glass of water to sustain her. She wondered what Erik felt, and if it was anything similar to the way she felt when they were so close together. She would have given him her glass, she thought dreamily, if he was standing in the desert. She banished such silly thoughts from her head, and allowed Erik to pay for the bracelet, and Christine felt mixed emotions. She didn't want to be seen as a gold digger, but she liked the idea of owning something that Erik had bought specifically for her, with her in mind. It made her feel very special, very loved, and Christine wondered if that was what Erik felt for her. Did he love her, or was it her that was the crazy one?

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**The results of the Poll! The single most voted vote was for ALW! An interesting choice! I might put up another poll soon, so keep your eyes peeled for any more news!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	39. Chapter 39

_**Rihanna's 'Diamonds'**_

_Shine bright like a diamond_  
_Shine bright like a diamond_

_Find light in the beautiful sea_  
_I choose to be happy_  
_You and I, you and I_  
_We're like diamonds in the sky_

_You're a shooting star I see_  
_A vision of ecstasy_  
_When you hold me, I'm alive_  
_We're like diamonds in the sky_

_I knew that we'd become one right away_  
_Oh, right away_  
_At first sight I left the energy of sun rays_  
_I saw the life inside your eyes_

* * *

Erik could have forgotten the world around him, he was so enraptured by the sight of clean, polished metal resting against Christine's dear little wrist. It was too big for her, the large links serving only to make her hands look even smaller, but Erik could tell by the look on her face that she was just as enchanted as he was. There had been no doubt in his mind when he had seen it, lying on a light blue cushion that matched the colour of Christine's eyes. There had been many fine pieces of jewellery that Erik had seen fit for Christine, but Erik had kept himself in check, Christine would not have appreciated ridiculously over jewelled necklaces or huge diamond earrings. His eyes had locked onto the infinity loop that this particular bracelet featured, and in that second, he could see Christine's warm glow, as though it was bathed in heavenly, golden light.

He had looked up though, to see Christine waving at Buquet, looking so innocent in her blue dress and headband, but in his head, he had seen nothing but dark red spots. It was hard to contain himself before Christine, but did his best, clutching desperately at the glass cabinet he stood over. Christine had seen how upset he was, despite his hardest attempt to hide it from her, and she had practically flown to his side, cozying up to him in her most endearing manner, but his mind had been too wrapped around the thought of the vile, loathsome rat known as Joseph Buquet. Memories of escaping banquets, switching cars and mornings filled with arguments with Nadir chilled his bones, but the moment Christine had wrapped her skinny little arms around his, tying herself to himself, he had realized why he had chosen the silver bracelets with the infinity loop. It was a promise. A promise to protect her, from everything, from the world, just as she was protecting him now. It was only because of her that he was even able to stand, because without her he would be on his knees, feeling nothing but pain and hate, suffering without her presence until he died. But she was here, smiling, and alive. Forever and ever. There was nothing that would tear him from her side, and that thought had consumed him when Christine had allowed him to take her hand. He forgot the world, forgot everything, he just kept repeating to himself the wonders that Christine had given him, each kiss, each embrace. She had seen his hands without feeling disgusted or repulsed, and then let him hold her. She had fallen asleep in his arms, and she had baked him brownies. She was special, the only one for him, and Erik knew that a thousand bracelets would never be able to express the words he wanted to tell her so frantically. He loved her. He loved her with all of his heart, and it was killing him that he could never have the love he desired from her. Did he not deserve that love? She would never love him though. She _couldn't_, it was impossible. Angels did not love demons, and he would only burn her with his hunger and lust. He would not force it either. He would not use trickery against her, despite having used his voice to persuade her to let him buy something. That had been accidental.

"Are you okay?" Christine asked, pinching his sleeve, tilting her head to one side as she looked up at him.

"What?" Erik murmured, looking up. "Forgive me, my dear, I was daydreaming."

Christine smiled, and gestured over to the window. The hand that was wrapped around his arm, with the silver bracelet clinking against his wrist, had completely absorbed all of Erik's attention, and he could feel the weight of it against him, drawing him in like a black hole. Christine cleared her throat, and grinned.

"Wake up sleepyhead." She laughed, and pointed again to the windows. "Nadir wants us."

Erik looked up, and saw Nadir standing outside of the limo, tapping angrily at his watch. Most of the photographers were ignoring him, taking plenty of photos of the two of them. "It hasn't been half an hour, already, has it?" Erik asked, turning to look at Christine.

Christine smirked. "No, it's been about 20 minutes."

Erik frowned, and looked back up at Nadir. "Then he should be patient."

"Erik," Christine chuckled, shaking her head. "We're done in here anyway, aren't we? We still need to get through the rest of the schedule, and I swear there were like, twenty things on there and we need to get through them quickly so I can give you your surprise."

Erik felt as though he was a bubbling cauldron when she spoke those last few words. He was nervous, but he was eagerly awaiting the surprise that Christine had spoken to Nadir about. Erik couldn't believe that Nadir wouldn't tell him what it was, and with Christine being unusually tight lipped, it only served to put Erik even more on edge. "What is it? What are you planning?"

"I'm not telling you." Christine said lightly, turning her face away from him as they began to walk towards the exit. "That's the point of a surprise, Erik. You'll have to wait."

_I don't think I can._ Erik thought, as the rude young boy from before appeared beside them and opened the door for them both. Erik shot him a dirty look, and it made him feel better knowing that he could do so and not have anyone know, but Christine was watching him, frowning. He stopped frowning, and tried to politely thank Anthony, and Christine smiled, looking relieved. How she had been able to tell that he had been thinking foully of the boy, Erik didn't have a clue. Christine looked out the door to see the cleared pathway from the door to the limousine, noticing that Nadir had stepped back in, and her eyes darted between the photographers on either side of the path.

Christine placed her hand over her wrist, hiding the bracelet from the cameras, and Erik watched her. She looked up, and whispered to him, "I don't want them to see it. It's ours. They can take photos of us shopping but I won't let them share our personal moments."

Erik's heart was beating in his ears too loud for him to even respond, it seemed to have jumped into his throat, and he held himself back from coughing as they glided out of Tiffanys. Erik felt very much like dancing, and his hands were itching with the thought of his bare skin holding her lithe body against him again. They could very well have been dancing, the way Christine guided him across the sidewalk. He hadn't noticed anything else apart from the way the silver bracelet adorning his dear Christine's wrist clinked and swayed about. She was stunning, simply beautiful in the early afternoon sunlight. The driver opened the door for the both of them and they clambered in, Christine first, and Erik following behind her in a daze.

Christine was kneeling before Nadir when the driver had shut the door, and Erik had felt like an emperor from the way Christine praised him, letting Nadir inspect the bracelet. He proudly sat, hands on his knees, sitting tall as Christine laughed with Nadir, twisting the bracelet about her wrist as she tried to look for the infinity loop. She found it, and slipped her finger underneath it, feeling it between her fingers. She was smiling, her eyes still drawn to it as she pulled away from Nadir, and curled up to Erik's side, like a purring kitten. Erik lifted his hand to her hair, and began to stroke it, like he would a cat. She had hummed, content as she draped her arm loosely across his lap, her hand rested on his opposite leg, the bracelet falling between his legs.

"So ... where next?" Erik had tried to ask breezily, the warm metal against his inner thigh bringing forbidden thoughts to his mind.

They had continued about their day, going to various stores, and Erik had been annoyed to see that Christine had lost interest, getting rather impatient herself and rather antsy. It had started off fine, they had visited a few expensive clothes stores, and Christine had 'window shopped', a concept Erik still wasn't sure he understood, but she still couldn't be convinced to take anything else from him. She had sworn that the bracelet was enough for her, but Erik couldn't disagree more It would never be enough. He could give her the world, and it still would not be enough to express the love he held for her. Christine refused his gifts though, and she watched him carefully after she caught him trying to sneakily buy a few little gifts for her. She couldn't, however, refuse the free gifts each store gave her. It was the usual kind of gift bag that most stores offered to their celebrity visitors. They were often filled, from what Erik could understand from Nadir's stories, with goodies such as skin care products, sunglasses, refreshing drinks, etc, and Erik was happy to see that Christine had at least been gifted with something, and he tried to pretend that each gift bag was actually, indirectly, from him. Christine tried not to care, but it only made him laugh every time Christine set a new bag down beside an increasing pile of presents and Christine nervously smiled whenever she thought he couldn't see her. He didn't know why she was so reluctant to receive gifts, but he was happy that she was enjoying it all, despite the fact that she was enjoying it in secret.

Each time they had stepped into the limousine, the two of them ignoring the steadily increasing crowd of photographers, Christine seemed to get more and more anxious, squirming in Erik's arms when he tried to hold her, and she started to fuss over the smallest things, constantly rooting through her purse, her legs beginning to twitch, and Erik wondered what had come over her, but it soon became apparent after they had visited the Chocolate Room.

She had enjoyed that store the most, distracted from her own thoughts once she could smell melting chocolate and an assortment of other smells. She had brightened up immediately, and Erik had happily ushered her about the small shop, pointing out the different treats, and he had bought her a large cupcake with plenty of whipped cream, and she had laughed! It was music, and he watched her hungrily as she peeled away the wrapper and began her little process of turning it into a strange sandwich. She had eaten it, and Erik had dared to wipe away the little crumbs that had been around her pink lips, making her blush. The shop workers had given her a plate topped with marshmallows, and a thin metal rod, and they had shown her their chocolate fountains, one milk chocolate, the other white chocolate, and Erik didn't see her take a step as she suddenly appeared between the two fountains, sticking a good few marshmallows on a stick. Erik had watched her, drawn into his own little world, his eyes occasionally catching the glint of the light that reflected off of her bracelet as she began playing with the fountain, moving the marshmallows about as she gazed dreamily at it, a soft smile on her face as she pulled them out and began to chew on the little white pillows. They had been drenched in the milk chocolate, and she looked up at him, smiling, unaware of the mess she had made around her lips. Erik had pulled a tissue from his jacket, and tenderly began to clean her face, much like she had done to his mask, and while holding onto her neck, using his thumb to press beneath her chin to hold her head steady, he could feel Christine's heartbeat begin to quicken, and he wondered what was going through Christine's mind. Had such an action disturbed her, or even _scared_ her? Once they were back in the limo, she had placed the gift bag down beside the others without looking at them and groaned audibly.

"Nadir, _please_. Is it time yet?" She complained, casting a wary look to Erik. "_Now_?"

Nadir smiled, a private joke between the two of the them that Erik did not like. "Yes, Christine. We'll be there in a few minutes. Will you be requiring anything?"

"No!" Christine exclaimed excitedly, squeezing Erik's hand. "I have my purse."

She turned to face him. "You'll have to wait here, I'm afraid." Despite her cruel words, she had a smile plastered across her face.

"I don't want to, I want to go with you." Erik whined.

Christine had blushed, lowering her gaze as Nadir scolded him, calling him a child, but Erik was ignoring him, he could only see Christine, the way her lips were trembling, and the way her hands held him so tightly. Christine was ignoring Nadir too, and answered,

"I'll only be a few minutes." She whispered to him, and Nadir had thrown his arms up in despair, muttering to himself that he might as well have been talking to himself.

They pulled up outside a large store with mannequins in the windows. It looked like some sort of superstore, with different departments. Erik didn't recognize the place, but Christine gave a little squeal of excitement, waiting for Erik to move so she could get out. Erik groaned, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared into his lap. He didn't like the idea of Christine wandering around on her own, but he needed to get used to the idea, or Christine would feel smothered by him, and Erik definitely did not want that. The door opened, and Erik slowly got out, holding his hand out for Christine, and he watched as her hand appeared first, then her silver bracelet, and Erik consoled himself with the thought that Christine would return to him. Standing on the sidewalk, Erik could see there were plenty of normal people walking about, but there were no photographers or security, and Erik could see every pair of eyes land on his mask within a 30 meter radius. Erik felt as though he was shrinking out of sight, until Christine stood on her toes to kiss him on the corner of his lips, her little trademark kiss for him, and Erik proudly stood tall again as Christine lowered herself.

"I'll be right back." Christine whispered, giving his hand a squeeze, and Erik watched as she skipped out of his sight and into the store.

He watched her a little longer, despite the stares he was getting from the various tourists that were now threatening to surround him, and he was relieved to see a security guard approach her, introduce himself, and then direct her to somewhere in the store. Erik slunk back into the limo, growling to himself as people began to pull out their phones to snap some photos of him. He could feel his muscles begin to twist and contort as he thought angrily to himself the unfairness of it all. He would never be able to court Christine properly if he was constantly drawing attention to himself.

"You're doing brilliantly, Erik. Christine is impressed." Nadir said, for once not playing with his phone or reading some newspaper.

"Oh? And how can you tell?" Erik muttered despondently, leaning over in his seat to rest his face in his hands.

"How can you not?" Nadir rebutted. "You should be pleased."

"I am, Nadir, but I think she will give me a heart attack if this goes on for much longer." Erik sighed, sitting upright. "Are all relationships as such?"

Nadir smiled. "Yes. Isn't it wonderful?"

"You could call it wonderful." Erik echoed, looking out of the tinted windows to see if he could spy Christine.

Christine did return a few minutes later, carrying a large brown bag. She looked even more excited as Erik stepped out before the driver could reach their door, and she flitted to his side, standing before him as she tried to catch her breath. Christine grinned broadly at Erik, taking deep breaths after giving a shy smile to the driver, who gave her one back and returned to his seat. Erik leaned over, trying to peek into her bag, but Christine quickly raised it to her chest and held it tightly against her, forbidding him from looking.

"No, Erik, it's not ready." Christine told him.

"When will it be?" Erik asked skittishly, getting more and more testy with Christine's games.

"We need to go back to your apartment, then I swear, I will give you your present."

It was a _present_, just for _him_! Erik lightly pressed a hand to her hair, and she giggled, climbing into the limo before him, leaving him to stand on the street with a gaggle of lost looking Japanese tourists. Erik ignored them, swiftly climbing into the limo after her as his heart threatened to jump out of his chest and offer itself to Christine. He wondered if Christine had felt the same way as him when she had seen the bracelet he had purchased for her. Was she dying like he was? Erik barked his orders through the intercom, ordering the driver to head immediately to his apartment, and Christine glowered at him.

"I wish you wouldn't shout at him." She said, pursing her lips as she still held her brown paper bag to her chest. She was sitting on the other side of the limo, away from Erik, her knees drawn up to her chest, her feet tucked in, hiding the bag from his view as she faced him directly. Erik didn't like this arrangement, and throughout the journey, he had persistently tried to pull her closer to him, but she just kept gently nudging his hands away from her with her feet, claiming that he only wanted to see what was in the bag and she wasn't going to let him ruin the surprise, which annoyed him more than her distance from him.

By the time they had reached the underground garage, Erik hadn't even let the limousine come to a complete stop before he took Christine's hand and dragged her out, to her surprise. He had to wait as Christine composed herself, and she turned back to the limo as it slowly began to stop.

"My purse..." She murmured, but Erik shushed her, and took her over to the elevator, ignoring Nadir's shouts and yells.

He pulled Christine in after him, and gathered her up in his arms, the bag pressed between them as she still clung to it, her arms crossed over them as she stared up in amazement. Erik buried the mask's face in Christine's neck, and her hair created a blanket around him, shielding him from view. Erik looked up, not moving his face from Christine's soft neck, to watch Nadir try to rush for the elevator, but the doors shut before he could reach them, and Erik darkly chuckled to himself. It would be a few minutes before Nadir would be able to join them, and Erik could selfishly enjoy Christine's present for him without the persistent fellow doggedly following him. Christine moaned as Erik's hand slipped down her back, and her body trembled giving Erik plenty of wicked thoughts and untold pleasures, especially when Christine slipped her arm out from between them and let it wander up up back, along his spine, pressing herself closer to him. Something tinkled, like metal hitting something, but he reasoned that it was her bracelet, which was digging into his back, bringing a kind of pain that Erik could withstand. Her breathing had increased, and she too buried her face in his neck. She was able to do it only because Erik was hunched over, trying to encompass her entire body with his, his body temperature rising with each second they spent in each other's arms. Christine seemed to be enjoying herself, but she seemed just as lost as he was, and when the elevator doors opened, they almost didn't pull away from each other.

Erik had pulled her sharply into his living room, and Christine had breathlessly followed without complaint, looking very flushed as she lowered the bag. He had released her hand, taking a few calming steps away from her, glad the demon in him had not appeared as he gulped in fresh air, and turned to face her, shivering as though he was cold.

"Christine." He whispered. "May I receive my present now?"

To say Erik was excited, was to put it mildly. Never before had he been given a present. The only thing that even came close to a present had been the mask his mother had made him, his first piece of clothing.

"Yes, but I need to set it up." Christine said, after a few moment's silence. "Wait here."

And before Erik could say a word, Christine scampered off into Erik's bedroom, puzzling him into silence. He listened as Christine began moving something about in his room, and then he heard something rustle, which would have been the brown bag, and then hundreds of jingling little noises. Erik tried to place it, but all he could think of was the silver bracelet around her wrist.

"_Damn you, Erik, can you not bloody control yourself_?" Nadir shouted from the other side of the front door.

Nadir stepped through and Erik looked at him, smiling. "Why should Erik control himself when he is in the presence of an angel? She is so good to him, and I-"

"Oh, she's shown it to you then?" Nadir asked, irritated already with Erik's speech.

"You know what it is?" Erik asked, aghast.

"Yes, she asked me if I knew any places that sold-"

"_He hasn't seen it yet!_" Christine shouted from the other room. "Erik, don't you _dare_ try and weasel it out of him!"

Nadir laughed, his anger passing for now. "Oh my, you must be in absolute hell. Just you wait until you've seen what she's bought you."

Erik gritted his teeth as he lowered his voice so Christine could not hear him. "Damn you, Nadir. You've been nothing but trouble. You said she would enjoy gifts but she damn well nearly didn't get anything today!"

"That can hardly be my fault." Nadir whispered back. "And I think she's rather happy with just the bracelet."

"You said chocolates, clothes and jewellery would impress her."

"Well it obviously doesn't, there's no point in getting angry."

"What other things can I give her?"

"I don't know-"

"Nadir, I'm begging you, what do men give their women?"

Nadir groaned, rolling his eyes. "Okay, so you've offered clothes, jewellery, so on ... What about flowers? Surely she enjoys flowers?"

"No, I tried that but she didn't like them." Erik mumbled, recalling the roses he had sent to her.

Nadir looked bewildered. "Christine doesn't like flowers?"

"No, she does, but she said she doesn't like cut flowers." Erik answered irritably.

Nadir grinned, beaming happily as something occurred to him. "Then it's clear what you should do."

Before Erik could ask Nadir what he meant by that, Christine squealed excitedly again, and leaned out of his bedroom, her eyes locking with him as she held onto the door frame.

"Okay, Erik, come here."

Erik shot Nadir a worried glance, looking for reassurance, but Nadir had no clue what he wanted, and Erik went to stand before Christine, who had stepped out and closed the door behind her so he could not look in. She looked up at him demurely, and asked, "First, you need to remove your gloves."

Erik cast a suspicious eye to Nadir, but he shrugged, looking confused as well. "Christine, do you really need-"

"Yes, Erik. Because once you see my gift to you, you'll want to hold me, and I've been waiting all day to feel your hands against me, and I don't want to give you this gift if you're not going to give me one." Christine argued.

"But I have given you gifts, Christine." Erik blandly said, trying to run through his mental list of Nadir approved gifts. "I have given you chocolates and jewellery and-"

"And that's all very well, but none of it matters _really_. I mean, I love everything you give me, but it's nothing to holding hands with you without those gloves." She said, glaring at the black leather. "I want to feel your hands, Erik, that's all I want." Christine concluded.

Erik tried not to look towards Nadir for help. He had the feeling that Nadir was just going to shrug, and that was not going to help in any way. Erik lifted his hands, so she could see him slip his fingers out, and she smiled, her eyes watching his trembling digits, and she grabbed the first hand he uncovered, her little fingers wrapped around his, squeezing them lightly as she brought them to her lips and kissed them. It still managed to knock the wind out of Erik whenever she did that. Before Christine, no lips had ever graced his skin, and he tried not to weep so openly in front of her as he had when she had first kissed his disgusting hands. They were red, and very sore, but with his attention on Christine all day, he had hardly felt them. He could see they were starting to harden again, and in a few hours, they would be back to being broken and peeling hands, the thought making Erik sick to his stomach. Christine's warm lips against his cold skin made Erik very thirsty for more skin contact, but Christine interrupted him with another request.

"Now, I want you to cover your eyes." She said, before Erik had pulled his hand away to uncover the other glove from his hand.

"What?" Erik asked, confused.

"It has to be perfect when you see it, Erik, and you won't get the full effect if you just walk in. I need to put you in the right spot and I-"

"Alright, Christine, I will close my eyes." Erik said, though he wasn't planning to.

"_No_, Erik, you _have_ to cover them." Christine argued. "Do you want your present or not?"

"Very much." Erik asked honestly, and Christine took his hands and pressed them to his face.

"Now, I'll guide you in, you just stand still and don't peek until I say so." Christine laughed, tugging on his lapels as Erik saw nothing but darkness.

Erik looked over his shoulder towards Nadir one last time, using his hands as a shield, who wasn't even bothering to hide his smirk from him. No doubt they were thinking the exact same thought. How had Erik, once the most feared hostage in the Iranian government, who took no orders and gave only commands, become the willing slave of a small, innocent girl? Erik did not care, he would be Christine's slave until the end of time if she treated him so sweetly, as if he truly was human. Christine continued to tug on him, admonishing him for looking at Nadir, and Erik tried to use the map in his head of his bedroom to see where she was placing him. She ran around his body to place her hands on his back, giving him the most wonderful shivers along his spine, and Christine gasped as they stopped moving.

"Wait, I need to open the blinds, it'll be even more beautiful." She said, and Erik could feel her leaving his side, and he felt her loss, even thought she couldn't have been too far away from him. He listened as Christine climbed up onto something, and the blinds began to open. Christine made some excited little noises, and finally called to him,

"Open your eyes!"

Erik pulled his hands away, doing as she asked, and Erik stood in rapture at the sight that greeted him. Christine was standing on top of the chair with wheels attached that had been sitting beside his desk, and she was holding up in front of the window a hanging mobile, with crystals attached to different lengths of wire. Erik blinked, staring at it until he realized that the crystals were reflecting thousands of little rainbows around his room. His grey room looked so much more beautiful than before, and Erik watched in wonder as Christine smiled at the hanging decoration in her hand, holding it up high to capture as much light as possible. Erik was in pure ecstasy as he looked around, each dancing little rainbow filling with him with euphoria as Christine prodded her finger to some of the hanging crystals.

She looked down at him, smiling serenely. "I got this one because I thought it looked like a chandelier. I did want to get you two more, to go in your music room and your kitchen, but I didn't have enough, so I thought I'd just get you the one for your bedroom, so you can wake up with loads of rainbows to wish you good morning. I thought it might make your room a little bit more cheery."

She stopped smiling though, as Erik continued to say nothing. "Do... you _like_ it?"

"C-Christine..." Erik stammered, pressing a hand to his heart as he tried to stop it from jumping about his chest like a wild cat in a cage. "I _love_ it."

_I love you._

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Wow, I'm glad to see you all enjoyed the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one too! Sorry it's so long, but I really couldn't keep Christine's secret any longer!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	40. Chapter 40

_**The Andrew Sister's 'Bei Mir Bist du Schoen**_'

_Of all the boys I've known, and I've known some_  
_Until I first met you I was lonesome_  
_And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light _  
_And this old world seemed new to me_

_You're really swell, I have to admit, you _  
_Deserve expressions that really fit you _  
_And so I've wracked my brain, hoping to explain _  
_All the things that you do to me _

_Bei mir bist du schoen, please let me explain _  
_Bei mir bist du schoen means you're grand _  
_Bei mir bist du schoen, again I'll explain _  
_It means you're the fairest in the land _

_I could say bella, bella, even say wunderbar _  
_Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are _  
_I've tried to explain, bei mir bist du schoen _  
_So kiss me, and say you understand _

* * *

Christine had by all accounts had a wonderful day. Erik had taken her out into New York, though it was only to visit several stores, and he had been on his best behavior. He had been a perfect gentleman, making Christine feel very much like a lady by the way he treated her. It was always with the utmost respect, as though she was the single most important person in the world, and Christine couldn't help but love every second of it. It was all so new to her, the cameras, the attention, the _romance_. Christine was fairly sure that Erik's feelings were not the same as hers, and it would only lead to embarrassment if she was to confess to Erik how she felt. Erik seemed to be obsessed with the image of her, instead of the real her. It was worrying, to say the least. She tried not to think about it too hard, which wasn't easy when Erik was dragging her about like a little doll, tugging on her heartstrings as she put on a brave face. She had also gotten quite bored with the whole shopping experience. She had tried to make it into a game, trying on clothes for Erik, and trying to convince him to try on a few things, but he had declined, saying he was perfectly happy to watch her, as he reclined gracefully on a white leather couch, looking like much like a tiger by the way he basked.

Thankfully, it was soon Christine's turn to take the reins, and she couldn't contain her excitement as they pulled up beside a large shopping centre. Erik had not looked happy at all, but Christine could easily brush that off, as she knew her surprise would soon overwhelm all of the bad feelings. The idea had come to her while she had been standing alone in his music room. All of the grey walls and chrome furniture and steel tables made Christine feel as though she was in a hospital. She had no idea why Erik would want such bland rooms, when his living room was Eden. So she had decided to buy him something that would light up each room and make it more colourful. She wanted three, one for the bedroom, one for the kitchen, and one for his music room. That is, if she had enough money.

Christine had gotten out of the limousine, after Erik almost hadn't, and she kissed his mask, to reassure him. He still did not seem happy, but that was most likely due to the various strangers that were on the streets, now staring at the two of them. Christine left his side, and wandered into the shopping centre, feeling very lost now that Erik was not with her. She didn't want to admit it, but she was scared as well. Erik had frightened her with his talk of Joseph Buquet, and she couldn't help but look around, the different levels of the store, trying to see if she could spy any glint of light to suggest a camera, but she saw none. There were only normal people doing their shopping, A security guard had appeared beside her, and introduced himself as Brad. Christine had been wary, until he said that Nadir had informed him of the situation. Christine had sighed a breath of relief and followed him to the elevators. They had chatted casually, and the doors had opened to reveal a surly looking man with a strange moustache, who Christine realized must have been the store manager by the way he held his hands and the way he was staring at her. He hadn't bothered to give her a name, but instead showed her over to the homeware section. He had insisted on following her about, but Christine wanted privacy when choosing her gift for Erik. She had almost lost her temper with the annoying little man, but Brad had saved the day by distracting the store manager away from her long enough so that she could wander down the aisles, looking for the right gift.

Christine knew what she wanted to give Erik, but she honestly had no idea whether or not they would have it in the store. Brad had assured her though in the elevators that there were a few 'mobiles' that were similar to what she had been describing. She found them eventually, on the bottom shelf of some aisle, and she had crouched down onto the balls of her feet, looking at each little hanging crystal decoration. They looked like chandeliers to her, and she held each one up, inspecting each one with scrutiny. They were all very beautiful, and she couldn't decide which one she preferred. Christine decided in the end to buy a single mobile, just for Erik's bedroom, which had hanging crystals of different sizes, on different lengths of wire, all attached to a circular frame. It was perfect. Erik was bound to love it. Christine wanted to hear those words from him.

Christine returned to Erik's side in a matter of minutes. Her heart had been racing so much, she was scared that Erik might have found out what she had been planning, or worse, he might have found out and decided that he didn't like it. She wanted him to like it, she was hoping it would make him happy in the same way his bracelet had made her happy. She had purposely positioned herself on the other side of the limousine, clutching the brown bag her present was hiding in to her chest, trying to make sure that the crystals didn't clink against each other, though that action alone had hurt Erik. She could see that he was unhappy by the way he constantly pawed at her dress, though she managed to nudge him away with her feet. He gave up after a few minutes, and hung his head.

Erik had pulled her out of the still moving limousine when they had pulled into the underground garage, and Christine didn't even have a chance to grab her purse as Erik was already pulling her into the elevator. He fell against one corner of the elevator, embracing her tightly as his arms came swooping down around her body. He buried his face against her neck, and the cool plastic mold chilled her flushed skin. Christine couldn't open her eyes, she was filled with a strange feeling that blossoming inside her. She felt as though there were butterflies in her stomach, threatening to eat her from the inside out. Erik had laughed at something, but Christine wasn't sure what until she she realized that Nadir was not joining them. That thought was soon replaced by the sensation of Erik's hand drifting down her spine, and she unintentionally shivered, her whole body trembling as though it was waiting for something.

She felt she could have stayed in the moment forever, her little heart beating furiously against the bag that was between them, and Christine buried her face against his neck, mimicking him as her own hand wandered up his back, making him very happy indeed as his whole body began to heat up, and Christine felt as though she had been covered with a very special blanket.

The elevator doors had opened, Christine had found that she didn't want to pull away. She felt she had found nirvana in Erik's arms, and it was only when she suddenly felt cold that she realized that Erik had managed to guide her into the living room, and was standing a few feet away from her. He must have asked her something, as he was just standing there, watching her. Christine's head felt like scrambled eggs, as she honestly tried to remember what he had said, but judging from his antsy behavior, it had something to do with the present she was still holding onto. She had garbled some reply out, and had flown into his bedroom, sure that Erik must have thought her to be very silly and childish by the way she was acting.

She had come across one problem however, when she had wheeled over the desk chair and had been standing atop it, ready to hang the crystal decoration. There was nothing to hang it on, and Christine had panicked, looking around her. Erik would surely have had pins, or blu-tac, wouldn't he? She began to search his desk, going through his drawers, but they had just been filled with boring papers, coffee stained coasters and little sugar packets. She listened out for Erik, but she could hear nothing, and returned back to searching for something to use to hang up the crystals. Nadir had soon appeared though, entering the apartment, and he had almost let slip what her surprise was, but Christine managed to silence him before he could say anything more. They had started whispering to each other, and Christine had elected to ignore them. She had a much more pressing issue at hand, but she soon gave up. There was nothing to tie the hanging crystals with. She would just have to hold them up again the light and hoped that Erik would get the general idea.

Erik had been stunned, that much was certain. She had insisted on his gloves being off, and after a short argument, he had complied, sound very disgruntled, and his body gestures didn't suggest that he was liking this part of his surprise. His hands looked as though they were on fire, and she kissed them, promising to herself that she would never let anything hurt him. Erik had slightly hung his head, watching her, and she wondered if he would cry again. Christine wished she could have given him a thousand kisses, she couldn't bear to think that Erik had never been given a loving touch, and Christine couldn't help but curse his mother. She wished she could have slapped the woman, or something. Looking at Erik now, she could feel her whole body vibrate in anticipation, and she had placed his hands over his eye to ensure he wouldn't see a thing until she got him into the right position.

Christine guided him into the room, and looking around her, she had realized that she hadn't even opened the blinds. She left his side, as Erik's body leaned after her, as though Erik was on the other end of some rope, and she had jumped up onto the wheely chair, almost twisting her ankle when she tried to stand, and she had opened the blinds to reveal a truly wonderous sight of New York in the afternoon. She hadn't realized how high up they were, and Christine could see everything for miles and miles. The sun was just hiding behind a wide building just a few blocks away, and Christine stared out of the window, there were thousands of buildings spread out in all directions, and her heart thumped louder as she picked up the hanging crystals carefully, making sure none of the crystals clinked against each other. She held it up high, and could help but make an excited noise as she watched as hundreds of little rainbows danced across the room, and out the open door, where Nadir was standing, watching the two of them.

Christine had told Erik to open his eyes, and he had slowly dropped his hands, his red skin looking more flushed against his white mask. Erik looked around, and Christine had held her breath, patiently waiting for him to say something, anything. The mask was emotionless, and it hurt Christine to think that she couldn't even see his face during what Christine believed to be a special moment between them. Erik continued to say nothing, looking around his room slowly, noticing all of the little dancing rainbows. Christine had begun to babble, she wasn't even sure what she was saying, trying to smile, but he still didn't respond. He said nothing, until she asked if he liked it. He had pressed a hand to his chest, and managed to choke what Christine was pretty sure had been '_I love it_'.

_And I love you, Erik._ Christine thought, smiling sweetly as she looked back at the crystals.

Erik took three large steps towards her, and buried his face against her stomach, grabbing fistfuls of her dress as he took several deep breaths. Christine had almost lost her footing, nearly dropping the hanging crystals, but she had laughed it off as Erik's hands on her hips steadied her. His mask was nuzzling her right where the butterflies were gathering, and Christine smiled, carefully dropping the crystals on the table in front of them, and took Erik's mask between her hands and kissed him carefully on the top of it.

"I'm so glad you like it." Christine whispered, resting her cheek atop the mask's curls, though it was quite uncomfortable as they dug into her skin in odd places.

"I do, Christine. Erik _loves_ his gift." Erik whispered back, burying his face deeper into her stomach, making her bend further over him. Any further, and he would be carrying her over one shoulder. Christine tried not to think about how his hands would be on her legs if he was to carry her.

"Do you hug Nadir this way when he gives you presents?" Christine laughed jokingly as she stroked the back of his head.

"Nadir has never given me a present, not until now." Erik said cryptically.

They stayed still for a few minutes, holding each other carefully, until Christine's stomach grumbled, waking them both from their dream.

"Oh, Christine! Forgive your Erik, he has forgotten to feed you!" Erik cried, pulling himself away.

Christine frowned. She was beginning to wonder where Erik had picked up the habit of referring to himself in third person. "Erik, I'm fine, I've already had something to eat. Remember the cupcake-_Oh_!"

Erik had lifted her off of the chair, one arm cradling her legs, the other holding her body up as he held her close to him and quickly carried her bridal style out of the bedroom. She clasped her arms around his neck, and held on for dear life as Erik swiftly brought her into the living room.

"There is nothing to fear, my dear." Erik said, placing her down on the couch. "I shall make you something to eat. Just wait here like a good girl until your Erik returns."

Christine turned in her seat, watching as Erik dashed off into the kitchen, muttering to himself excitedly. She turned back to Nadir, sulking.

"Why does he do that?" She asked. "Why does he talk like that?"

Nadir shrugged, joining her on the couch. "Erik is a strange man, Christine. He is just overcome with so many emotions, and you have made him very happy."

"But how long can this happiness last?" Christine wondered aloud, looking back towards the kitchen, where she could hear him fumbling with pots and pans, opening cupboards and angrily talking to himself.

"No-one knows." Nadir said. "All I know, is that you needn't be so scared."

"I'm not scared." Christine objected. "How can I be? When every second with Erik is like ... oh, there aren't _words_!"

"You are happy?"

"Extremely. More than happy, I'm ..." Christine looked up at Nadir shyly. It was safe to tell Nadir, wasn't it? Surely he would not betray her trust? "I love him."

Nadir watched her, his eyes twitching. "Did you say-"

"I did." Christine confirmed, fiddling with her dress as she stared into his lap. "I _do_."

"But you have not even seen his face! You know next to nothing about him," Nadir argued, trying to keep his voice down. "It has only been-"

"A few days I know! Don't you think I've tried to tell myself that? And I don't care about his face, he could be headless for all I care and my feelings would not change. And I know what Erik thinks it is safe to know. He reveals himself to me so slowly when we are alone. I could spend eternity listening to his voice."

"I must beg you to reconsider this."

"Why?" Christine asked, jerking her head up. "What is so wrong with my love? Is it not good enough for him?"

"It is not that, but you must see, Christine, that you're rushing into this too quickly. The both of you must slow down. You're like a hurricane, and you'll lose control and destroy everything. Please, I must insist, do not tell him just yet." Nadir pleaded.

"Am I so foolish?" Christine asked, squeezing her hands into fists. "I love a man I know nothing about."

"No, Christine. No you are not. You two are meant to be together, no-one can tell me otherwise." Nadir murmured, licking his lips. "But I must warn you-"

"I know about Carlotta, Nadir. I know he turned her away because she touched his mask, but Erik has let me do so much more than that. I have kissed his mask, and I've kissed his hands, but he still doesn't ask me to leave, and I dread that the most. I was wrong when I said I wasn't scared. I am scared, Nadir. I'm scared that on Sunday he will watch me leave and not say a word to stop me."

"Do you want him to stop you?" Nadir asked, glancing towards the kitchen.

"I don't know. If he asked me to stay, I would not refuse him, but I must return. As much as I love him, I do not think he loves me in the quite the same way. He doesn't see me as a person, I think, but like some toy to paraded about. I felt the same way at the party. But you two are keeping secrets from me, and at the party, you said we would talk about it. Carlotta said he has a temper, but I haven't seen it."

"Christine, there may be a good reason as to why you feel such apprehension about Erik. There are secrets he is keeping from you, but I cannot discuss them. I am not the messenger, I am only a guide. But I will tell you this, he is scared you will fear him after you find out, and he is doing everything to keep that from happening. You must understand, you are the first good thing to happen to Erik in decades, and he will fight tooth and claw to keep you."

"But at what cost? I don't want to keep any secrets between us, and I don't think I could live with a man without knowing everything about him. And if I do find out, then what would happen? What if it truly is such a horrible secret, and I can't even bear to look at him? Would he get angry? Would he lose his temper then?"

"Christine, you must be patient with Erik." Nadir sighed. "He is trying his hardest. He will never hurt you, I am confident of it. But perhaps while we are alone, I can help you understand him a little better. I shall tell you of how we met."

Christine glanced towards the kitchen, where Erik was still talking to himself. "Go on."

"A little over twenty years ago, I want sent by the Iranian government to investigate the rumors of a man who had many talents, each more impressive than the last. He could make his voice leave his body, tame wild animals and sing like no other. No-one knew anything about the man himself, apart from the fact that he wore a mask to hide his identity. I had to leave my wife behind so I could find him." Nadir said, his speech slowing. "I must have been searching for him for months. I don't remember how long it took, all I knew, was that the masked man would be leaving with me whether he wanted to or not. I found Erik in Russia, hiding in some wretched cave. The locals had spoken of a masked man they'd only ever see at night, hiding in the mountains, hiding in the forest surrounding it, and I went by myself to greet him. I was surprised to find a young man, he must have been in his late teens, lying on the floor of this cavern. He was delirious, and he kept crying. He was dressed like a ruffian, barely any clothes on him, and he was so thin. I could count every rib. My medical team saved his life, and he has hated me ever since."

Christine bit her lip. "Why did the Iranian government want _Erik_? I don't understand."

"_Daroga_."

Christine turned around, gasping as she saw Erik stand only a few feet away, staring at Nadir as he held a tray before him. Christine could see there was a steaming bowl of tomato soup, with what looked like cheese crumbled on top, and some toast.

"Erik, I'm sorry-" Nadir exclaimed, thrusting his hands up in defense.

"_Silence_." Erik commanded, and Nadir's lips instantly pursed together. Nadir looked very scared, and Christine wondered if she would finally see Erik's dreaded temper. "_Do not talk_."

Christine didn't want to look at Erik. She was scared what she would find there, but she was even more scared of the power in his voice. It had been terrifying, and she had seen the effect his voice could have over people. She had watched in amazement when Erik had ordered Andre and Firmin away at the party the night before, and now, even Nadir seemed to fall under his spell. She did not want to think what Erik could make her do, but she reassured herself with Nadir's words, that Erik would never harm her. She only hoped that Nadir hadn't just been saying that to keep her happy.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	41. Chapter 41

_**Michelle Branch 'Second Chances**_'

_Sometimes we get second chances_  
_And sometimes we never make it past the first_  
_It really makes you wonder why somethings happen when they do_  
_It really makes me wonder why it wasn't me instead of you_

_And when you say _  
_It doesn't matter well it does_  
_And all it takes_  
_Is a mistake to eat your words_  
_Just one more time I think I'll drive on home tonight_

_Sometimes we never see the warning_  
_And the voice in your head tells you not to go_  
_It really makes me wonder why somethings happen when they do_  
_It really makes me wonder why it wasn't me instead of you_

* * *

Erik had only been gone for a few minutes, to make Christine something to eat after her stomach had quivered against his mask to complain, but he had come back to find Nadir revealing his dark past to Christine, her back facing Erik as he entered this living room. Erik had been furious, barely able to contain himself as Christine listened to every word that the Daroga spilled out of his foul mouth. The day had gone so perfectly, Erik had been sure that Christine had been sufficiently wooed for the day, and her gift to him, her crystals, was to be his most valued treasure. He had held her, and she had held him back without fear, kissing his mask, holding his hands; such gifts, such wonders she had given him. He could have been walking on razor blades and lemon juice all day, and he wouldn't have noticed a thing. He was barely even aware of the pain in his hands.

Christine had _gasped_ when she had realized that he had been standing behind her, listening in to their conversation. Erik hadn't heard the beginning of their conversation, he had been busy ransacking his cupboards, looking for anything that might please Christine. He had been furious with himself at the sight of his fridge, and only getting more and more worked up until he had decided to serve her some tomato soup with Stilton cheese crumbled on top. He had warmed it up in a pan, the colour of his hands looking remarkably similar to the bubbling red liquid as he poured it into a bowl for her, providing her with toast as well. He had been in his own little world, pretending that this was any other Thursday, just a normal day of entertaining guests. He could almost see it, they would have picnics, and he would sing for her, and she for him. Christine would pour out tea for their guests when they came round for Sunday lunch, laughing and smiling at everything, holding his hands and kissing them in front of their happy smiling guests. And if they _didn't_ like it, then he could tell them to get out, and he would have Christine all to himself, who would give him more kisses without flinching. There was not a thing wrong with the world in those few minutes. He had forgotten though, that it was not the world that was amiss, it was him. He did not belong in that world with Christine. He didn't deserve to have such happiness, not when he had been the cause of so much misery. Nadir had reminded him of that cruel fact just by speaking to innocent Christine about his younger years.

She wasn't looking at him now, instead staring down into her lap, twisting her pretty dress about as she held fistfuls of the light blue material. Erik had stared at her, feeling so very lost as her lips trembled. He had turned angry, his hands shaking violently as he thrust the tray into her lap forcefully, spilling the hot soup all over the tray, a few splashes getting onto her stomach, making her jump. Why had this happened? They had been so happy, there hadn't been a thing wrong. Why had he left her side? Why hadn't he ordered Nadir to make them some food? Why hadn't he ordered out for something? Why did Christine have to be so perfect and he so broken?

"Didn't I _say_ there was nothing to _fear_, Christine? _Didn't I_?" Erik snarled, clenching his hands into fists. His head snapped up to glare to Nadir, whose eyes were locked on him, wide and frightened. He was frozen in his place, Erik's words having scared him stiff, and his lips were struggling to open, no doubt trying to spill more secrets. "Why must you ruin _everything, _Nadir?"

Christine looked up, her wide eyes staring up at him as she held onto the tray in her lap. "Erik, he-"

"_Why_, Christine, _why_ did you have to _listen_ to him?" He whined, pressing his bare fists to his mask, trying to blot out any view of Christine. "Now I shall _never_ have you."

Christine said no words, she offered no redemption, but she did sigh, and from what he heard, he assumed she was placing her tray down on the coffee table.

"Erik, you'll always have me, but you must understand that his words have not changed my opinion of you. No one can make me stop-" She paused, taking a deep breath. "You must forgive Nadir. He hasn't done anything wrong, he just wanted to help me understand you. Nadir has only ever been trying to help you, you see. He cares for you, and he wants this to work just as much as you do. As I do."

Erik lowered his fists, pressing them to his cheeks. Christine was turned toward him, sitting on the very edge of her seat, her hands clasped together as she stared at his shoes. She ran a hand through her golden hair, pulling out the black headband to drop it beside her, and looked up at him carefully. She was so calm, but the way she held herself suggested something else was on her mind. He knew she was scared of him, how could she not be? Nadir would have mentioned what was under his mask, what a dark history he had, and he would spoil Christine's perfect image of him. She had seen him as a caring, attentive man, now she only saw him as the angry, violent psychopath he was, that she needed to console.

"Nadir just wanted to tell me about how you two met, because I said I felt as though I know nothing about you, apart from what you've told me about your mother, and Carlotta-" Her lip twitched at the mention of the woman's name. "And Nadir was trying to help."

She rose up from the couch, and stood before him, the top of her head just barely brushing against the mask's chin. She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes darting between his hands, and she placed her hands on his hips, rubbing her thumbs against his shirt. He could feel her, his stomach performing tremendous flip flops from the contact.

"I know now that it was wrong of me to talk to him about it. I should have asked you, I should have come to you with my concerns."

"You are _lying_ to me, Christine. I know Nadir would not be able to resist such a game of ruining Erik's happiness." Erik muttered darkly, his voice dripping with poison.

Christine smiled sadly, her brow furrowing as she answered him with, "He isn't _trying_ to ruin your happiness, Erik."

"Then why do you fear Erik?" He asked, his voice rising as he clutched at her forearms, pulling her hands away from his hips so she would no longer distract him. Her eyes grew larger, clearly surprised by the sudden turn of events. "I can see it in your eyes, your opinion of me _has_ changed. And it is because of _him!_"

"No, Erik. I do not fear you. Not until now when you started shouting." Christine said angrily, stepping back as she pulled her arms away from him. "If you see fear in my eyes it is because you have put it there."

Erik flinched, her words cutting into him like ice. "You ... You don't mean that."

"I do." She said, resolvedly, her little chest rising and falling as she took deep breaths through her nose. "I have heard a lot about this temper of yours, Erik. I thought they were all just trying to scare me away from you, but I can see now that it won't be them who will drive me away, it'll be _you_!"

Erik's breath caught in his throat as Christine looked up at him, looking more hurt than angry. "No ... I'm _sorry_, I didn't mean ... _please don't go!_" Erik cried, grabbing her arms again as he tried to pull her back to him. She twisted about in his arms, closing her eyes, and Erik frantically gripped her tighter, his fingers tightening around her wrists.

"_Erik_!" Christine cried, yanking her hands away. Erik's hands just hung the air where he had held her, and tears sprung to his eyes at the sight of her skin turning red from his venomous touch.

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._.." Erik sobbed, trying to reach out for her again, but Christine was holding her wrists close to her chest, staring up at him in horror. "Please, Christine, _please_."

His voice had begun to crack, and the tears that gathered in his drooping eyelids were blurring his vision, but he could see Christine's eyes soften, as she sighed.

"You said you would never hurt me." She whispered, dropping her hands. "_I_ said I would never hurt you either. I'm sorry Erik I didn't mean to get you so upset."

"This, this _isn't_ your fault." Erik cried, trying to backtrack. "It's _my_ fault, please, forgive me. I let my temper get out of hand, please don't leave me _alone_."

Christine rubbed her wrists, twisting her silver bracelet as she stared at it. It took her a few moments, but she managed to look back up at him. "It's okay, Erik. I know you didn't mean it." She said, her voice flat and emotionless.

He had broken her, he had broken his sweet, dear Christine, and now she would never forgive him. There would be no picnics, no guests over for Sunday lunch, there would be nothing, and it had been because of him. Christine looked up, watching his trembling hands, and Erik had collapsed on the couch, the exact place where she had been sitting, and he stared off into space, his whole face twitching as Christine took a careful step forward, leaning forward slightly as she tried to judge his reaction. She sniffed, and dropped her arms. She stood straight, and looked at Nadir. It felt as though a thousand years had passed. A thousand years of agony, waiting for her to speak. He desperately wanted to hear that she forgave him, but her words had sounded so lifeless that he wasn't even sure he would believe her if she did say those words. Erik buried his head in his hands, speechless, until Christine's hands came to rest on his knees. He looked up to see her kneeling before him. She squeezed him, and tried to smile.

"Erik, please talk to me. Tell me we're okay. I know it can be hard to keep your feelings bottled up inside, but we can talk it out. I'll help you, Erik, if you ask me."

"Christine, you should run far away from me. You should leave and never come back. It is the only way I can keep you safe. I cannot control my temper, there are demons inside me that will not allow it. You are a good person, Christine, and I am not. You are my light, and I will not extinguish that light. You thought of me as a gentle, loving man, but I am not, Christine. My past is proof enough of that. I will not share it with you, I will never let you see how monstrous I truly am. I wanted to keep you in this sweet bubble and let you think that I am as normal as any other man, but it is hard when every word you speak can send me to heaven or hell. I wanted to impress you and show you how much I truly cherish your being here, but now you are afraid of me."

"Erik, I am afraid of your temper, but not of you. I am not afraid of your demons either. I will not leave you, and you can tell them that yourself. I was wrong to even hint at such a thing. I am not going anywhere, and I want to hear you say it." Christine said, pulling his hands away from his mask. Her eyes were sharp, focused on him, and she held him so fiercely that he almost believed her. But she would run. They always did.

"_Christine_-" Erik whimpered.

"Say it. _Say_ that I'm not leaving you." Christine spoke softly, holding his hands to her chest. "_Say it_."

"You are not leaving me." Erik whispered, his voice barely audible above the thumping of his heart.

"Say it again." She ordered, her voice more urgent. "I want your demons to hear you."

"Christine is not leaving." Erik spoke a little louder.

"_Again_."

"Christine is not leaving her Erik." Erik announced, his heart fluttering in the same way that Christine's eyelashes did when she heard his words.

"That's right." Christine said, nodding. "Christine is not leaving her Erik. _Her_ Erik. Because you belong to me just as much as I belong to you."

"Yes Christine." Erik answered numbly.

She did not belong to him though. How could a saint belong to a sinner? He was Hades, and she was Persephone, and no matter how long he had wished for it, he could not keep his queen in his hell. She could say such pleasing words sometimes, each syllable lifting him beyond the clouds, but he could see through those words now. She was only trying to keep him calm, to stop him from hurting her again, but he never would. He had hardly believed he had even done such a thing to her, and her tiny wrists were blossoming into a shade of pink that scared him, looking as though they were beginning to swell. It looked as though he had tied her wrists together, and Erik felt his own hands jerk with the memory of ropes around his wrists and ankles.

He could not keep her. He would destroy her, and she would hate him for it.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	42. Chapter 42

_**Leona Lewis 'Forgiveness**_'

_I don't wanna spend another day,_  
_Pointing fingers while I'm placing blame,_  
_I'm no angel, imperfect myself, cos baby I am only human,_  
_And I don't wanna put it all on you,_  
_I admit I did some painful things its true,_  
_And I'm sorry for them, no making amends,_  
_For always thinking I was innocent_

_Starting today, I'm gonna change,_  
_Don't wanna make the same mistakes,_  
_Cos I can see a new horizon,_  
_The ice around my heart is melting,_  
_And the hurt I feel is slowly dying,_  
_Now, I'm no longer crying,_  
_The bridge we burnt is being built again,_  
_Its leading to a new beginning,_  
_And it may never be the way it was,_  
_And that's because I'm talking about forgiveness,_  
_Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness,_

_I wish we could take back the things we said,_  
_Cos what we said not always what we meant,_  
_We lost our heads, in the moment,_  
_And the words we used them like a weapon,_  
_But no one wins if we both walk away,_  
_And we hid behind the people we became,_  
_We're warmer than that, we're better than that,_  
_And I still cherish all the things we had._

* * *

Christine had so many questions running through her mind. There were the obvious questions, such as how had Erik developed such phenomenal powers, the ability to control a person through his voice alone? And what about that word, _Daroga?_ Clearly it was not a pleasant word from the way that Erik had spit it out, as though it was a curse. He had looked so dominating, so _angry_. His whole body had been shaking, and Erik had forced the tray onto her lap, making the soup slosh about, spilling onto the tray with a few drops landing on her dress, and she had winced, the red liquid seeping through her dress and burning her stomach. Erik had begun shouting, and Christine wanted to cover her ears and close her eyes, but she knew that it had been her fault, and she was the only person who could remedy the situation.

Erik had cried that he would never have her, which seemed strange to Christine as Nadir had only been speaking of how the two of them had met, not some criminal charge or something, but Erik _must_ have thought that they had discussed something close to his heart. Nadir had spoken of caves, and it had frightened her to hear Erik in such a terrible state.

It was a strange sight, to see Erik so angry, yet his mask remain perfectly calm, and it only served to creep Christine out, sending shivers down her back. Erik had started to accuse Nadir, but Christine had jumped in, ready to defend him, almost spilling her own secret to Erik in the process. Christine agreed with Nadir, there was a better time than this to announce her feelings to him, and it was probably when Erik was in a better state of mind than the one he was already in. Christine wanted to make Erik feel better, but it was hard when Erik was so defensive. She tried to explain that she was only trying to understand him, but Erik had accused her of lying, his voice sounding as though there were hands around his throat, throttling him about. His voice took on many tones, there were so many different voices, it felt as though she was having a conversation with a dozen different people, and his voice only got louder and louder, more bitter and resentful. It was hurting her, deep inside that she couldn't understand him. He was so secretive, so mysterious and dangerous, but it made her wish he was more expressive in his own personal life, instead of all of the awkward reactions to such simple social interactions that she had seen so far.

She had reached out to him, hoping her touch would ease him, but he had thrown her hands away, only to grab them again when she turned the tables and shouted at him. She would not let him think that she was some defenseless creature. He saw her as a fragile little dove that needed to be tended, and in some ways, she admitted, she was. She wanted his guidance and his support, but it was difficult to take it when she felt so restricted by him. She could lose her temper too, when backed into a corner, and she would strike out too, if she so wished. She did strike out though, out of pain. She had warned him, barely even knowing what she was saying. She had threatened to leave, though every instinct of hers was screaming at her to take it back. Christine felt like crying, she was so confused, and hurt, and she hadn't even known how they had gotten into such a horrible argument. She only knew, that when Erik's hands clenched around her wrists, it had felt as though he had pulled her heart out of her chest and left it beating in his hands, making her watch as he squeezed the life out of it.

It had all happened so quickly. Erik had squeezed her wrists, making her cry out as she tried to pull away, and he had released her so quickly that her wrists had thumped against her chest as there had been nothing to hold them back.

_He ... he just ... _Christine's thoughts had been a meddle of assorted feelings, ranging from fear, to hate, and anger. _He hurt me. He said he would never do that!_

Erik had begun to beg for her forgiveness, and Christine had felt so lost. She wanted to run and hide. She wanted her father, and she wanted her Erik back. _Her_ Erik, who had been so loving, so strong and formidable, who had treated her like a saint, who had worshipped her. She was so confused, but as she looked at him, she saw him in a new light, so to speak. The technicolor sunlight that hit him from behind bathed him, and she saw him with new eyes. It was as though she had never him before until this moment.

_This is my Erik. This is the other side of him. The side that cares so much it will override everything to keep something he cares about close. I do not love him any less for it. He's still the same person, he's just hurt. He's as lost as I am, and he needs my help. Who hurt you Erik? Who crippled you so much that a single word from me can turn you into this? Your mother. Your mother should have loved you._

Erik was staring at her, his hands hovering in the air. He was making strange choking noises, and Christine realized that he was crying.

_My poor Erik. _She thought somberly._ I will love you. I must be patient with him. __I have hurt him too. Oh, Erik. I am sorry. You are so much more vulnerable than I am, and I must be kinder to you. I must change, and I must show you how to change. I know you are scared and that's why you lashed out, but I know you are a good person, and I will bring that out of you. I must be strong for the both of us is our love is going to survive this._

She had mumbled out some words, excusing his actions, but the throbbing pain in her wrists reminded her that she was in a vulnerable position too. He collapsed into the couch, and she stole a glance at Nadir, whose eyes were darting between the two of them. She felt sorry for him. It was as though he was paralyzed, unable to move or to react, only able to watch and listen to each word they spoke. She wondered what he would say if he could speak now. It scared her to think that Erik could easily do the same to her, but he never would. Would he?

Christine looked back at Erik. He had buried his head in his hands, and she knelt before him, placing her hands on his knees. He needed her to be strong for the both of them. He stiffened, and looked up at her slowly. He spoke of demons in his head, and he tried to convince her that she should no longer stay by his side, and Christine had gotten angry again. How could Erik suggest such a thing? They belonged to each other now. There was no going back, there was no forgetting him, there was nothing, but him in her world now. To tell her that he was no good for her was like telling her that she was stupid for letting her heart fall for him.

_As if I let it. As if it was my choice._

She made him say over and over again that she would not leave him, but he didn't sound as though he believed her. She kissed his hands, and spoke more words of reassurance. He came round slowly though, and pressed her hands to his lips too, still begging for her forgiveness, but she would have given it without his asking. Christine cast a wary glance to Nadir, and was about to ask Erik to release him what whatever spell he was under, but she felt something prod against her stomach, and she looked down to find Erik's hands touching her dress, where the tomato soup had spilled.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled again.

"It's okay, Erik." She said. "But please, is Nadir okay? He's not in pain is he?"

Erik looked up at Nadir stiffly. Nadir's face was turning red, and it was making Christine feel very nervous. "No, he is not."

"Then ... What is he? He's not moving."

"He is fine." Erik answered.

"Erik, it isn't nice to torment your friends." Christine said softly.

Erik looked around at her. "He is hardly being tormented."

"But is he safe?"

"Yes, perfectly. He is just angry I suspect. I won't be surprised if he bites my head off." Erik said, resting his forearms on his knees and peered at Nadir. "He is just in a loop."

"A loop?"

"Yes. I implanted the thought in his head to stay silent, and now that is all he can do. You see, my voice can suggest to the brain certain ideas and it can override the thought process and just stays in what I imagine is a loop."

"You didn't implant it, you _told_ him. Your ... Your voice, it's controlling him." Christine said, and a note of panic appeared in her voice.

Erik heard it, and reached out to stroke her hair, but he pulled it back before he could touch her. "I would never control _you_."

"But that's not the point, you're controlling Nadir as though he's a puppet, and not a human being. What someone did the same thing to you?"

"...I would not like it." Erik replied, but there was something in his tone of voice that suggested that maybe someone _had_ tried to control him.

Christine carefully placed a hand on the mask's cheek, and rubbed her thumb lightly against it, a consolation to herself mostly.

Erik sighed, and dropped his head. "You wish me to wake him?"

"Yes, I do." Christine placed her hand beneath Erik's chin and lifted his head to look at her. "_Please_."

Erik nodded, as Christine pulled her hands away, and he turned to Nadir, his body as stiff and as unrelenting as his voice. "_You may speak now_."

Nadir coughed, choking on something as he took several deep breaths, and he grabbed a fistful of Erik's sleeve. He was himself again, but definitely angry. He lost the red tinge to his face, and managed to splutter out between breaths, "You ... _idiot_! Damn ... you."

Christine hurriedly took one of Nadir's hands and held them carefully. "Are you alright?"

Nadir glanced at Christine from the corner of his eyes and nodded, coughing again. "Erik, if you lay ... Another hand on Christine ... Then I ... Shall take her away myself. Do you understand?"

"...Yes, Daroga." Erik said calmly, still watching Christine. He sounded so defeated, and it made Christine think of how he had acted when Nadir had seen her arm when they had returned from the yacht. Was Nadir his conscience? If Erik ever went too far, was Nadir the one who had the final say? What about _her_ say? Wasn't she important enough to factor into the equation?

Christine stared between the two of them, blinking as she realized that same word had cropped up again. "Daroga? What is that?"

"It is his title." Erik announced, though he was distracted by Nadir getting up to storm off into the kitchen, muttering angrily to himself. "_Was_ his title."

"Was?" Christine asked, sitting herself up on the couch. Erik shrunk back, and Christine tried not to feel disappointed.

"It was his position back in Iran." Erik answered, waving his hand about lazily. "Until he left and came to work for me."

"In the Iranian government?"

Erik didn't answer, and Christine wished she hadn't asked. She wasn't sure why she had, but she knew not to ask again. He looked at towards the kitchen, possibly looking for Nadir, as though he was looking for guidance. Nadir appeared though, and he stood in the doorway, sipping on what looked like a whiskey, refusing to even look at Erik. Christine sympathetically stroked Erik's arm to bring his attention back to her.

"It's okay. You don't have to answer that."

Erik nodded, and turned back to look at her. "Thank you." He reached up slowly, and both Nadir and Christine watched as his index finger barely grazed her wrist.

It looked a little better now, her wrists. They were still an angry shade of red, but it was nothing that Christine couldn't handle. She pulled her hands away, and laid them in her lap, staring down at them with resentment. She was still nervous around Erik, but she didn't want him to see that. The red blush on her wrists were a reminder to them both and she wished she could wash away the hurt. She had forgiven him, but their relationship now was so strained. It was such a difficult situation, and Christine knew she would have to treat it carefully, and hoped Erik knew how to be careful.

* * *

**I'm sorry it's so short, I've had a very busy day today, but I'll make it up with a nice longer chapter tomorrow.**

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	43. Chapter 43

_**Sergio Mendes 'Never Gonna Let You Go**_'

_I was as wrong as I could be_  
_To let you get away from me_  
_I'll regret that move_  
_For as long as I'm living_  
_But now that I've come to see the light_  
_All I wanna do is make things right_  
_So just say the word and tell me that I'm forgiven_

_You and me_  
_We're gonna be better than we were before_  
_I loved you then but now I intend_  
_To open up and love you even more_  
_This time you can be sure_

_I'm never gonna let you go_  
_I'm gonna hold you in my arms forever_  
_Gonna try and make up for the times_  
_I hurt you so_  
_Gonna hold your body close to mine_  
_From this day on we're gonna be together_  
_Oh, I swear this time_  
_I'm never gonna let you go_

* * *

Erik had felt so guilty that even looking at Christine caused him pain. Her stained dress and her red wrists were proof of his anger, and he felt shame, which was emphasized by Christine's good nature and her careful treatment of him. He had been so desperate to keep her, that the idea had scared him enough to send him into a frenzy. He had scared her, and even now she was still nervous, Erik could see that, but she was still there, still kneeling before him, like an angel. She looked so beautiful and saintly, her blonde ringlets glowing in the multicolored light, each ray of blue and green light dancing across her skin. Taking a closer look at her skin, he could see she had goosebumps, and the hairs along her arms were standing up on edge. He wasn't surprised, his temper could make even the most hardened general shake in his boots, and she hadn't even seen the full extent. He wanted to rub her arms, to warm her up, but that would have been a stupid idea. She wouldn't want to be comforted by the very person who had given her those goosebumps.

There was so much he wanted to tell her. He wanted to explain so she would understand, and she had said that was what she wanted, to understand him, but it was difficult when his life consisted of darkness that when exposed to the harsh light of day, would shatter any illusions that Christine had for him. The way he had lashed out, it had been out of hasty desperation to keep his horrible history from her. She wanted to know him, but there was nothing good to know about him. Every day of his life, he had been in hell, chained down in the deepest, darkest dungeons, and that had been his sanctuary. The darkness could hide him, like a welcome friend, but it also hid his demons, who shouted his innermost desires down his ears, twisting his words and making him trust their dark truths. But Christine had come, and then there was light. That light was exposing everything, and Erik felt he could no longer hide from her. Soon, that light would shine on his face, and Christine would see the demon inside him, struggling to break free, surfacing out from within him out onto his vile flesh. There were no shadows, no stone unturned, and Erik could no longer pretend.

Christine had gotten angry when he suggested that she should leave him, as if it was the last thing on her mind, her lips pursed and her brow furrowed with annoyance. Didn't she realize what danger she was in? How could she? She didn't know what his hands had done, what his hands could do. They were monstrous, and for good reason. Hadn't his temper scared her away? Why was she here, still smiling at him? How could she even bare to look at him? How could she even dare to smile, though nervously? Her blue eyes were tracing his mask when she kissed his hands, and Erik felt every inch of his body react to her warm, soft, smooth skin. She was here, still _here_. Would she ever leave?

If Erik was to ask, would Christine stay? If she _did_ forgive him for his outburst, then he would praise the very Lord who had given her to him. It was a dream he didn't dare hope for, but he couldn't help imagine what life would be like with her in his life. Every day would be splendid, just wonderful. He would make her happy, he would wait on her hand and foot, and she would never need to lift a finger again. He would provide for her, and she in turn would be his muse, his inspiration, his everything. He would happily spend the rest of his broken life making sure she never wanted for anything, and with time, with any luck, she would feel something akin to the devotion he so craved. Her feelings now were so bruised, so fragile, and he prayed for a second chance, a chance at redemption, to prove himself. Christine would have to stay in her hotel, he could never have her here in his home. It would be too distracting, he would never be able to get any work done, and the thought of Christine sleeping every night so close to him, candied dreams dancing through her head, was too tempting. It was a stupid thought. There would be no chance of her staying. Christine would return to London in just three days. Erik tried not to think about it too much.

If he couldn't even trust himself around her unconscious body, then how could he trust himself with her very soul? She was so precious, so _vital_ to him, but it was not safe for her. Why, _why_ had God done this to him? Why had he given Erik a chance of happiness, only to watch him burn it all away?

Christine, though still shaken, skittishly turned her thoughts away from her own pain, and selfishlessly inquired as to the state of Nadir. Erik couldn't have cared less for his _friend_. He was swiftly becoming a nuisance, and Erik would have liked to have thrown the troublesome man right out the window, but Christine's good soul forced him to see that his actions would not be well received. He managed to give a cursory look at Nadir, expecting to feel his blood boil, but his mind caved when he saw Nadir's hurt and angry expression. Erik knew what Nadir would be thinking. He would be thinking that he had stepped too far, and one more step, and he'd be lost over the edge.

_I must listen to Nadir. He is the voice of reason_.

Christine asked if he was in pain, as Nadir was progressively getting redder and looked rather like a tomato. Erik wasn't too worried, Nadir had experienced this _trick_ before. Erik only really used his voice on Nadir when he was becoming too meddlesome, but he had never left him in this state for very long. It was mostly just to distract him for an hour or so, to let him finish up on some architectural sketches, or some other thing his mind had been warped around for who knew how long. Erik could lose himself for days in his office, or in his music room, and it was the main reason why Nadir checked in on him every day. It was to ensure that Erik was still alive.

Erik began to explain the fundamentals of his aural illusion, though he felt it wasn't a very good description. The way he had thought of it, as there was no scientific explanation that he could find, was that his voice had the ability to nullify the thinking process. He imagined all thoughts to be like a queue, each process of action waiting to be completed. His voice, when spoken in his special tone, could skip all of the waiting brainwork, and jump straight to the head of the queue, where it just stayed on repeat, so it was all the victim could think. With one suggestion, Erik could make a man do most anything. There were restrictions of course, he could not convince a man to give him information he had no knowledge of. Erik had learned that the hard way in Iran. It was quite a gimmick, but it was the least of his phonic talents. He could throw his voice about the room, and he could mimic anyone's voice to clear perfection. He wondered if Christine would be amused by such tricks. She had found him funny the last night before, when he had been playing games with the other celebrities. Nadir now was perfectly fine, he was probably just sick of listening to his own voice, repeating in his head. It served him right, and Erik smirked with amusement at the thought of Nadir getting his just dessert.

Christine didn't see the funny side of it, and sounded very alarmed at the thought of Erik's power. Erik wondered if she was scared that if he had no qualms over doing this to his 'friend', that he would just as easily do it to her. He hoped not, and he tried to explain that to her, almost reaching out to touch her, but it would have been wrong. She was hurting, and she needed space. She argued still for Nadir, asking how he would feel if someone did it to him, but Erik didn't have to imagine. He knew quite well what it was like to be held against his will, waiting for release, he could still feel the binds and gags that he had thrashed against, struggling to breathe in the foul, stained burlap sack he had once been held captive in.

Christine's eyes were wide, and she looked so hurt, so pained by his answer, as though she _knew_ what he was thinking. She reached up, taking a very brave step, and risked the chance to touch him. The pad of her thumb pressed against the mask, and Erik could feel the pressure push against his high cheekbones. It was like she was trying to reach out for a butterfly, opening her hand and hoping that it would land on her. She must have wanted him to respond, to show that he could be there for her as she was for him, but Erik felt too shaken to do anything.

Christine begged him to release Nadir, still worried for his safety, and Erik complied. He would never refuse Christine of anything, and he turned to Nadir, his confidence shot as he released Nadir from his own mind, and he took every word Nadir spat as thought it was a dagger to his heart. Nadir was angry, there was no mistaking that, and Christine flinched in surprise as Nadir grabbed Erik forcefully, reminding him of the reason why he was still around. Nadir was to stop Erik from making any foolish mistakes, but he couldn't very well do that if Erik could easily wipe his mind clean of any thought and suggest his own ideas.

Christine leant forward, her hair sweeping over her shoulders as she asked if he was okay, but Nadir didn't answer, instead opting to go get himself a stiff drink. Erik wished he could have gotten himself one too. Christine asked about the word 'Daroga', a word he hadn't meant to let slip in front of Christine, but he had felt so worn down that the word had been spoken effortlessly. Erik had loosely explained that it had been Nadir's title in Iran, though it wasn't his full title. Nadir had once been the Daroga of Mazandaran, a province to the north of Iran. The closest that Erik could explain Nadir's position, was that he had been a sort of, chief of police, though he had been promised promotion in the weeks before they had met, if Nadir could bring Erik to the court to be placed on display like an animal...

Christine could see he was getting worked up, and Erik had no Nadir to rely on to come up with suitable answers to her questions, but she stroked his arm, and told him that she didn't need to know. He was grateful, but he resented the pity he heard in her voice. He didn't want her pity, he wanted her love.

His eyes caught her shapely wrists, and Erik felt shame again as he spied her flushed skin, which looked so infected, and he had been the cause of such infection. Would this day never end? Erik wished he would take her wrists and cover them with his hands to pull them away to show no more red, accusing skin aimed at him. He tried to touch her, as gingerly as possible, but she pulled her hands away from him, and laid them in her lap, staring down at them with such fragility, such confusion in her eyes. He wanted to erase her mind of what he had done, to see her smile at him, to have her hold him in such gentle embraces, her little arms squeezing his ribs like she squeezed his heart. But it would be unfair to her, to rob her of her senses.

Christinelooked up at him, biting her lip, making it turn a dark, fuller shade of red, and asked carefully, "Can I have a hug?"

Her voice was so quiet, but her eyes hardened, and she nodded a little to herself, and said again with a stronger voice. "I want to hug you."

Erik felt his lungs fill with air as hope dawned on him, "Yes, Christine. Come here."

He held his arms out, and cursed himself for not having enough control to stop his arms from shaking. Christine's face lit up, and she looked so relieved, so close to tears as she made a small noise and climbed up onto the couch, facing the back of the couch as she rested her dainty cheek against his chest, her hands on either side as her ribs pressed against his. Her bracelet clinked against hi, and Christine pulled her knees up, her feet just resting off the edge of the couch, her hair tickling his neck as her warm, supple body melted into him. Erik's hands shivered, and he warily placed them around her back, his skin catching on her dress as it started to crackle, the dead skin beginning to peel afresh. He barely knew what he was doing, he only knew he was lost in Christine's perfume, his head clouded with such pleasant thoughts.

"I'm sorry." Christine mumbled into his shirt, her lips brushing against the scars on his chest, making them tingle. "I didn't mean to make you angry."

"No, I'm sorry, Christine." Erik replied, pressing the mask's lips to the top of her head, and he began to rub her back in a soothing manner, grateful that the moment had passed. "I shouldn't have lost my temper over something so unimportant."

She turned her head, to rest her chin on his chest, and she looked up at him. "But it wasn't unimportant. It was important to you."

"You're wrong. Nothing is more important than you." Erik told her, pressing his bloated lips to the inside of the mask, as it pressed against her crown. _No one in the world can compare to you._

"Oh Erik." She sighed, and hid her face back in his chest. "It makes me very happy to hear that."

"It's true. You mean everything to me, and I will never shout at you again." Erik whispered, stroking her ringlets with care.

"Thank you." Christine whispered back, and raised her head to leave a kiss on his neck, which burned from her touch.

Erik adjusted his grip on her, and looked over at Nadir, who was watching the scene with a grimace etched across his face. Nadir rolled his eyes, and took another sip of his drink, casually strolling about the back the couch, along the bookshelves. Christine looked up at Nadir, her eyes filled with some expression that he couldn't place, and Nadir had the same look in his eyes as well. It was something private between them, something they had discussed without his knowledge, and Erik felt very protective of the girl in his arms, and wondered what secret they shared. Erik held her, his cold hands warming up delightfully against her hot body.

"Christine," Erik looked at down at her. "Is there anything you need? A glass of water?"

Christine sat up straight, her hands still pressed to his chest and she smiled. "No, I'm fine. But I would like to listen to some more of your music, if that's okay."

Erik grinned, and brushed back some of her hair from her face, and Christine slowly smiled too. "Shall I play for you? Would you like that? I shall play for you whatever you wish!"

"Oh, please! On your piano?" Christine said excitedly, her ringlets bouncing around with tenacity. "I'd like that!"

"Then would you please wait in the music room, I will join you momentarily, but I must have a word with Nadir." Erik stammered, unsure of how Christine would react.

Christine bit her lip again, and glanced at Nadir.

"Please, Christine, it is to apologize." Erik humbly requested, his head drooping slightly.

Christine nodded, and left a kiss on the mask's cheek, before slowly gathering herself up off of the couch to disappear into his music room, giving him a final smile, before she shut the door behind her. Erik watched the door, listening to Christine's every footstep. It sounded like she had gone to sit before his piano, and he knew it would be a treat to open the door to see her waiting for him. He turned his head towards Nadir, not quite looking at him.

"You will not speak to her on those matters again." Erik said severely, keeping his voice down as it was apparent with the displeasure he felt.

"You nitwit. You think you can treat me as such and then order me about?" Nadir muttered, laughing darkly. "Why should I? It is perhaps for the better if she knew who you were."

"Please, Nadir, you must let me handle this myself. If you are truly trying to help us, then you must see that my past is mine to discuss. If ever the day comes where I must explain myself, then I would prefer to do it myself. Christine and I must work it out for ourselves, and it does not help when others get in the way." Erik pleaded, at the end of his rope. He was trying his best to be good, he wanted to be good for Christine, but it would only work if he put in the effort. Christine was worth it, and he would suffer every humiliating ordeal in order to keep her.

Nadir stared at him, and sighed, putting his drink down on a random shelf, and joined him on the couch, sitting on the other end and as far away from Erik as possible. Erik didn't blame him, he was probably still feeling a bit sore from before.

"I'm glad to hear you say such reasonable things. If you must know, she wasn't frightened until you appeared."

"I realize that." Erik answered. "I must not scare her."

"You don't." Nadir chuckled. "I'd say quite the opposite."

Erik looked up, baffled by Nadir's words and his merry tone. "Meaning?"

"Oh nothing, I wouldn't want to get in the way." Nadir replied, smirking smugly. "Am I even going to get that apology?"

Erik turned away from Nadir. "Yes."

"But not now?"

"I am still angry at you."

"But why? I did nothing wrong in telling her about how we met. You're the one who overreacted. This can hardly be my fault." Nadir mentioned, oddly pleased as he folded his hands in his lap.

"Given time, I could find a reason why it would be your fault." Erik sighed, and hung his head. "But I will not blame you. Christine would not like that."

"Yes well, you sure know how to show a girl a good time." Nadir said, clearing his throat.

Erik turned around. "Do not test me. I am not in the mood."

"Take it easy, Erik." Nadir said, getting up to retrieve his drink, smirking as he turned to face Erik. "She still likes you."

Erik groaned. "But how can you tell? Why is it so easy for you to see how she feels and it so hard for me?"

"Because you're too close. Every once in a while, you should take a step back." Nadir said, rejoining him on the leather couch. "And, uh, _she's still here_. Do you think she'd stick around if she didn't want to? The thing about women, is that if they don't like you, they will not waste their time spending it around you. She is serious about this relationship."

"You make it sound as if she has a choice." Erik muttered back. "I'm the only person she knows here, and only I can protect her from the media."

"Sure she does. She could very well grab the next plane back to London this very second if she wanted to, but no, she's waiting in your music room for you to appear so you can play for her."

Erik glanced up at the door. He could hear Christine press a few single keys on the piano, and he nodded awkwardly, standing up. He brushed some imaginary lint from his sleeves, and removed his jacket, draping it over the back of the couch.

"Are you planning on singing for her?" Nadir asked cautiously.

"No, not just yet. I do not yet know the effect it would have on her. She's so delicate, it would break her." Erik answered, though he did want to sing to her. He could only imagine the magnificent duets they would share.

"That, or make her profess how madly in love with you she is!" Nadir suggested, though Nadir wasn't sure why he was pressing the issue.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Nadir, you know she would never feel that way."

"But-"

"Enough, Nadir, enough. I do not think my soul can take any more damage today. I must heal." Erik looked tiredly towards the door, and ran a hand over the top of his mask. He wished he could have run it over his scalp, but there was no chance that he would remove the mask. Christine's love would be grand, but it would never be his. "She will heal me."

"Erik, when you go in there. I want you to do something." Nadir said, his eyes narrowing as he took on a serious tone. "Look at her. Really look at her. Listen to each word she says, and how she says them. Really pay attention to her, and then tell me what you see when you look at her. You ask me how I can tell these things about Christine? How I know about women? It's because I listen to them, I look at everything and I see all. There are no secrets that are hidden from me."

"What are you trying to say? Am I missing something?"

"Yes, you are."

"What?" Erik asked, turning to face Nadir, throwing up his hands with exhaustion. "What is it that I cannot see?"

"Well, go in there and figure it out for yourself. You have to put in the effort, and I am not having this relationship for you. Go in there and make her feel special. You'll see it then."

Erik stared at Nadir for what felt like the longest time, though it had probably only been a few seconds. His face was unusually blank, and Erik couldn't figure out what his was friend was thinking. Had Christine said something to Nadir, was that what the secret little glances to each other were about? Erik felt so excluded, so stupid, as though he was standing on the outside looking in.

"Before, you said it was obvious what I should give Christine, instead of flowers. What were you about to say?" Erik asked. "...Please."

"Fine, I shall at least give you a hint here, though I shouldn't after that disgraceful display." Nadir smirked, though tried to hide it after a second. "Tell me Erik, if she doesn't like cut flowers, then what does she like?"

Erik was stumped. "I ... I don't know."

Nadir laughed. "Oh come _on_, Erik. Figure it out! You're supposed to be an unrivaled genius, _think_."

"I ... I don't _know_!" Erik cried, but hushed himself so Christine would not hear him. "A _garden_?"

"Close enough. You think on it Erik, and let me know what you come up with." Nadir sighed with a laugh, pulling his phone out, and looked at the time. "I will take Christine home in about an hour. I think she needs a little time to herself after the hectic day she's had."

"Only an hour? It is not that late, it is barely dinnertime." Erik argued. "Why must she leave?"

"Be grateful I do not take her now. I'm giving you an hour so you two can get back to where you were before you spilled her soup on her, and she can have something to eat at her hotel. She needs her space, and time to declimitize after the mountain you forced her over today."

Erik sighed, and glanced over towards the music room. Christine was humming now, and it was so sweet and melodious that he felt himself being drawn towards her. He waved a hand over his shoulder, ignoring Nadir as he submitted to his demands. "Very well. Knock on when our time is up, we shall be quite busy, I think, and we may be distracted."

"As you wish." Nadir replied, and turned his attention to his phone, coughing a few times.

Erik tried not to roll his eyes. Nadir could be so melodramatic at times. But what was Nadir suggesting when he asked Erik to look closer at Christine. What did he expect him to find there? Erik was hoping he would not find fear, as he would not be able to live with himself if he did not have her forgiveness. Erik began to ponder Nadir's words as he stood before his music room, his hands pressed lightly to the door as he listened to Christine. He could hear every breath she took, his hearing had always been quite astonishing, and there had been plenty of uses for it before; spying on his enemies, etc, but now he had found a new use for it. Christine sounded calm, rather restful, actually, and he wondered, now that she felt she was alone, what her deepest, most private thoughts were.

What was Erik going to see when he walked through that door?

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Hi Kumon5! Yeah, sorry about that, most of the reviews I can't really reply to for obvious reasons, but you don't need to remind me that I'm not replying to them, I am aware of that. :( I am trying my best, but it's hard to juggle a normal life, with it's own problems, and Erik's and Christine's world. Please do keeping leaving reviews though, I do love reading them, and I read every single one! **

**Hiya Rosie! I wasn't too happy with the last chapter, but I'm glad you liked Christine's point of view. I hope this was long enough for you! And my god, I still can't believe you read Virtusoso! I just cringe whenever I think of that now, I wrote it so long ago, and there's so many things wrong with it, I feel like I should rewrite it or something! Thanks for the reviews for it though, haha :)**

**Hi there Corey! I was going to promise that things will get better, but I honestly can't say a thing without ruining the storyline. But you will want to keep reading, the drama is gonna hit the roof in a few chapters!**

**Hey PhantomLilac! I'm sorry you didn't like how Erik was acting? Did you think it was out of characters or Erik, or was there something wrong with my writing, or my interpretation of Erik? I am keen to listen to what everyone thinks, and if you think I'm taking this story in the wrong direction or whatever, then I would like to hear it :)**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	44. Chapter 44

_**Lizzie West's 'Chariots Rise'**_

_I never felt this way before_  
_I've seen so many islands_  
_I never felt this way before_  
_In this song here I describe him_

_The chariots rise_  
_Up high in the sky_  
_What a fool am I_  
_To fall so in love_  
_What a wonderful dream_  
_It seems to be_  
_'Cause I love him_

_I took the notes of past excursions_  
_And I read them through once more_  
_Only to find them all diversions_  
_From the one true love in store_

_The chariots rise_  
_Up high in the sky_  
_What a fool am I _  
_To fall so in love_  
_What a wonderful dream_  
_It seems to be_  
_'Cause I love him_

_Though I have waited long_  
_And they have all been wrong_  
_Now I find in the end_  
_With him I need not pretend_

* * *

Christine had been so happy that they had made up, and being back in Erik's arms only strengthened her resolve to help Erik through whatever pain he had experienced, and still suffered from. His arms round her made her feel so safe, despite what had just happened, and just being so close to him, pressed up against him, she could forget about the world outside. She could feel him, breathing deeply, his fingers pressing into her back, and it was as though there was an energy running through them, like an electric current. It was enlightening, and she hoped that Erik felt the same way whenever he held her. They had both apologized, the both of them eager to fix their mistakes, and all was forgiven, though their feelings were still tender. Christine was still a little shaken from Erik's angry outburst, it was hard not to be, his emotionless mask, coupled with his powerful voice and impressive figure had been so frightening. She wondered if what she had seen had been the temper that everyone had spoken of, or whether it was just a scratch on the surface. Christine knew that Erik would never intentionally harm her, he wanted to keep her happy, but it was alarming the way his mind had convinced itself to grab onto her so tightly. It would take time, and patience, to work things through with Erik, but it had not been a wasted experience. They had both learned a valuable lesson, and Christine saw it as a way of strengthening their relationship.

Christine thought a little more about that word and what it meant. Relationship. It was a normal word, but when applied to Erik, the word sounded strange in her head. Almost as though it didn't suit him. He was very old fashioned, after all. Christine wondered if it would be possible to have a relationship with him, as it seemed there were so many things holding them back.

She had closed her eyes in the few minutes of silence they had between them, just holding each other, and Christine could feel Erik's hard hands rub her back, her dress nicking against his skin, but it didn't matter to her, the fact that she could feel his skin against her made it all better for her. She was ashamed to admit it, but she did want those hands to touch her in ways other than hand holding. Erik had called her important, and it made her feel so warm, so loved, that she had teased herself with the thought of touching _him_ more intimately.

She had pushed herself up along his body, stretching her neck as she pulled his collar away from his neck, exposing his pale neck, and she had kissed him there, just underneath the edge of the mask, and he had felt so cold. It hadn't concerned her, Erik had mentioned that his blood ran cold, but what did concern her was Erik's lack of reaction. He had arranged his arms tighter around her, but other than that, he said done nothing. Christine wasn't sure how to feel. She knew that Erik would have liked it, any man would have in his position, but was Erik still sore about their argument?

Christine stared at Nadir from over the top of Erik's right shoulder, as Nadir had begun the patrolling about behind the couch, along the bookshelf. She was looking for guidance, and she was well aware that Erik had done the same only a few minutes before. She caught Nadir's eyes, and tried to convey her thoughts to him, but there was nothing that Nadir didn't already know.

Erik had distracted her though, by asking if there was anything she needed. She felt she could have answered that question with a number of different ways, but instead she chose the safest option she could think of. She wanted to hear his music, and she knew that they would both enjoy listening to it together, but then Erik had suggested that he play it live for her, and Christine had been so delighted! It would like a private little concert for her, tailored to her every wish, and the thought of watching Erik play an instrument was too alluring. She wanted to suggest that he should play the violin, for obvious sentimental reasons, but she suggested that he play the piano as the last second. It would mean she would be able to sit beside him, and listen to his wonderful playing. He had been so powerful in his recordings, making her heart race, she couldn't even possibly imagine what he would be like live.

So when he asked her to wait for him in his music room, she had been surprisingly nervous. Erik had said that he was only apologizing to Nadir, and she believed him. Of course he would want to apologize to his friend in private, and after a nod from Nadir, she left the room, giving a sweet smile to Erik, and closed the door behind her.

Christine looked around the room, and excitedly went to sit before his piano, sitting to one side of the bench so there was enough room for Erik when he joined her. She admired the piano while she waited. It was a beautiful thing, she thought as she carefully stroked the keys, and she wondered what Erik would play for her. She hoped it would be something she hadn't heard before, so it would be more powerful in her mind. Or maybe something she _had_ heard before, she wanted to see the difference of just listening to his music, and then seeing him play. Christine wasn't sure which she was hoping for the most, she just knew that no matter what he played, she would be delighted with all of it. Just watching his fingers trace the keys, she tried to imagine whether he would play softly, like a lullaby, or forcefully, so every key rang out with zeal.

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing deeply as she tried to steady her heart. She felt so hot all of a sudden, and she needed fresh air. It felt as though Erik was holding her again, and she looked up at the blinds. They were closed, same as the bedroom had been, and she got up to open them, hoping to find a latch for the windows. They didn't open, to her dismay, and she wondered how Erik managed to keep so cool inside. He must have had air conditioning or something, but she couldn't see any dials or buttons. She began to fan herself with her hands, but that didn't work, so she grabbed the collar of her dress and shook it, trying to waft some cool air down her chest, but that didn't work either. Why was she getting so flustered?

_It's Erik._ Something told her. _And it's perfectly natural._

She took a few more calming breaths, and she returned to the bench, her every muscle on edge as she anxiously tapped her fingers along the keys, trying anything to distract herself so she could appear more 'with it' when Erik appeared. She just had to let go. It worked, as she soon found herself trying to compose her own little melody. She had never played the piano, but it was easy enough to just press a few random keys, one after the other, and she found herself humming along.

_It's been so long since I've even hummed. It's nice. I forgot how easy it is to just ... let go and give yourself to the music. _

She did not feel guilt in thinking about music. It was too natural to her for her to ever forget it. It had been as much as part of her soul as it had been for her father, or how nature had been a part of her mother. She missed singing, and she missed her father, but it was sometimes hard to tell the two apart; they had been so wound up in each other, so close. When he died, it was as though he had taken the music with him. A long time ago, when Christine had been little, he had told her that one day, she would sing for someone else other than her father. It had seemed so silly at the time, she had only been six, and the idea of singing for anyone else had sounded stupid. But her father had been serious. She would meet someone, and they would inspire greats works from deep within her. He promised her that this person would bring music out of her in way that no-one else would ever be able to.

Christine turned her head, and glanced at the music room door. She didn't need to ask who this person was now. It was Erik. It had always been Erik, and it always would be Erik. He was the person her father had been talking of. He wanted to teach her, he wanted her to sing above all else, and Christine could think of no finer gift to give to Erik.

Christine turned away angrily. Her father had not wanted her to stop singing, but she had. She had stopped because of grief, and it was hard to throw away the wasted years just because she was in love. Did her father not mean anything to her? Her mourning for him had not stopped, but to start singing again would be like as though she had forgotten him.

The door opened, and Christine turned slowly, so as not to alarm Erik, and she tried on her best smile. He watched her for a moment, and took another step into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stared at the floor, took a deep breath, and lifted his head to look at her.

"You were humming." He said.

"Yes." Christine replied. "I was thinking of my father."

Erik nodded, and wrung his hands, twisting his skin forcibly. Christine winced, and Erik tore his hands apart, hiding them behind his back as he took another step forward.

"If you would prefer to do something else, I'm sure we can find you-" Erik began, but Christine interrupted him.

"No, Erik! I want to watch you play. Please, I'm fine, really." Christine sighed, and reached up to take his hands. "Please play for me."

Erik's fingers felt so cool against her hot skin, and suddenly the thought of his hands all over her was even more of a tempting thought. Erik pulled them away from her, and she almost snatched them right back, but he carefully stroked the side of her face with the back of his fingers.

"You're awfully hot, Christine. Are you alright?"

Christine wanted to blush, but she figured her cheeks were already red enough as it was, and she nodded slowly, her eyes on her mask as she enjoyed the feeling of his fingers against her cheek.

"Perfectly alright, Erik. Please, sit." She managed to say without sounding out of breath, and she patted the seat beside her, turning back to face the piano, so Erik wouldn't see her pleased expression as she sucked on her lips. The hand that had been around her jaw had remained motionless when she turned, suspended in the air, and her hair had brushed through his fingers, until the tips of his fingers rested against the very top of her spine. It been a _bad_ decision to turn away from him, Christine thought, but his fingers were gone and she no longer felt so ... eager. She let out a frustrated sigh through her nose, and pursed her lips to one side. Surely it wasn't fair that he could make her want him so badly with just one touch of his hands, but he wouldn't even react when she kissed him.

Erik's fingers came back though, and they danced along the back of her neck as he brushed all of her hair over her right shoulder, and it all cascaded down her shoulder, like a waterfall, but her attention was on Erik's fingers, tickling the hairs on the back of her neck.

Erik crossed the room behind her, slowly, so she could hear each footstep as he prowled about, appearing beside her on the bench. He pressed his fingers to the keys lightly, his fingers arched and his wrists bent over, and he stared at the keys, not saying a word. He was sitting on her left, quite close to her, but he wasn't touching her, and he seemed to be in deep thought until he turned his head slightly towards her, still staring at the keys, and he asked,

"Is there ... Anything you wish to hear specifically?" His voice sounding very dark and mysterious.

Christine shook her head. "Just as long as you play, I'm happy." She replied, with a dreamy smile on her face.

Erik gave a solemn nod, and said nothing, turning his head back to face forward, and Christine waited, her hands in her lap, her feet curled up beneath the bench. Erik's fingers twitched, and he carefully pressed a few keys, stopping every few seconds to change his mind and choose a different key. He seemed so serious, and on the odd occasional he looked up at her, she smiled at him, to encourage him on. Perhaps he was trying to find the right song. There were so many he could choose from, and she wondered which of his songs he would choose from. She had told him her favourite song from his newest album the night before, but she wasn't sure if he would remember. Erik had been hunched over the piano, but he straightened himself after a few minutes, and ever so carefully, he began to play.

Christine gave a small laugh of delight and bewilderment as she recognized what Erik was playing. It was a classic song, practically _everyone_ knew it. It was 'Con te Partiro'. It was odd to hear it being played on the piano, when it had been written for violins, and Christine _knew_ there was a difference between playing it on the piano, rather than the violin. She held her breath, waiting for him to sing, but he never did, and Christine was confused. Hadn't Erik promised to sing for her? It was rather mean of him to play a song with lyrics, and then not sing them.

It was beautiful though, and Christine felt as though she was being lifted out of her body, floating somewhere above them, up to the ceiling. She had closed her eyes, unaware of anything, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to breath. She was nothing, _nothing,_ compared to the brilliance of Erik.

She finally felt like a child of God. Christine felt so pure and holy beneath the eyes of her creator, because her creator was _him_. No capital H, no divine power, just _Erik_. He was like thunder, dark and commanding, who brought out the same emotions in Christine, and she felt so sinful just listening to him play, his fingers darting across the keys like wildfire. His hands moved so quickly, so purposefully, determination running through him like stallions as he continued. It felt as though he was sculpting her, as though he had seen something in her that he wanted to bring out and just as each note rang out in the small room, she felt as though she was being chipped away, to bring out an entirely new person. Christine hadn't been able to think clearly, her thoughts revolved around his music, each second filling her with sweet, shameful sensations.

It had gotten to the last part of the song, and without even thinking, she raised her head, and something had erupted from her. She wasn't even sure what it was, but the song had already finished, there was nothing, but a single note ringing out in the air. Christine had opened her bleary eyes, discovering that she was crying, clutching at her skirt vigorously as she stared at the ceiling. Christine had, without realizing it, opened her mouth and let out out the final note, a single note that still wavered in the air, and her whole body had fluttered, so _relieved_ to be singing.

She lowered her head, her lips trembling as she comprehended what she had just done, what Erik had done to her. It had only been four days, but he had gotten her to sing. It was only a single note, true, but it was more than she had expected. It had sounded so clear, so sure, and Christine tried to remember how her voice had sounded when she had sung her final song to her father. It hadn't sounded so perfect, and she had definitely not felt so _possessed_ by the spirit of music.

Christine slowly uncurled her fingers, and stared down at her heaving chest. It had certainly taken it out of her, she hadn't needed to use the full capacity of her lungs in years, and her chest felt sore from the unexpected surprise of singing. Her lungs felt strained, but she wasn't too surprised. She hadn't even warmed up her voice through scales, and it had been quite some time since she had sung so truthfully.

She blinked, sniffing as she tried to wipe away the tears in her eyes, and her eyes flitted up to Erik, who was watching her, his hands still holding down the keys the final note had ended on. She looked away from him, hiding her face from him as she embarrassedly pressed her hand to her mouth, as though she was trying to stop herself from singing out again. She hadn't meant to sing, but it had been impulse and when it came to singing, Christine had never been one to hold back such urges. When she had been younger, singing had filled every second of her life, and she had felt no need to restrict herself, she sang everywhere, without guilt or constraint. To have gone years without singing, she had felt pure ecstasy from just giving in and letting her subconscious just take control.

She felt so stupid for what she had done. Erik was obviously surprised, but with his mask on, she had no idea what he was really thinking. He had interrupted him while he was playing, and she groaned, turning back to face him. He was still in the same position, his mask facing her, and he pulled his fingers away deliberately, to rest them on his lap.

"You..." He didn't even finish, his voice trailing off.

"I'm sorry, it just came out." Christine whispered, pressing her fingers to her lips.

"It's ... You sounded ..." Erik gasped. "Perfect."

"Oh." Christine said, pleased by his words as she dropped her hand awkwardly. "Thank you."

They sat in silence, staring at each other, and Christine lowered her gaze, dropping her head slightly.

"Do you ... I mean, your singing. You said-"

"One day." Christine murmured, looking up. "I said one day."

"But that was yesterday."

"I know that, Erik." Christine said, lowering her eyes again. "But it feels as though I've been waiting for this. My soul demands that I sing for you, and only you, and I think my father would be happy if I sang again. I think he led me to you."

"Christine, your soul is a beautiful thing. That you would want to offer it to me is a wondrous miracle to me." Erik reached out, and held her face with one hand, tilting her head up to look at him. "But what do you mean, he led you to me?"

"I think God had a hand in it, but it was because of my father that I'm even here at all. If my father had lived, I'd still be London, singing for him, waiting for something to happen. But he died, and I grieved, and my videos saved me. They brought me here, to you, and it's because of my father. He always said that I would meet someone, and I would no longer sing for him, but for this person. It's you, Erik. You're who my voice was meant for."

She took his hands, and held them delicately. "It belongs to you Erik. I'm not going to hide anymore. I will never sing for anyone else. My voice is yours."

"Christine..." Erik spoke softly. His voice sounded very strained, almost as if he was trying to hold himself from saying something. "I... I..."

Christine smiled, and closed her eyes as she lowered head respectfully again. "I would love it if you were to be my teacher, Erik."

"Teacher..." He breathed. "You wish for me to _teach_ you?"

Christine nodded, still staring into her lap. "If you still want to. You said on the yacht, that I needed training. I can't help but agree, it has been some time since my vocal lessons with my father. I want to make him proud of me."

"Christine. I promise you, I will make him very proud of you. Angels will cry and people will say the voice of God has graced the earth."

Christine looked up, smiling. "Will it make _you_ proud?"

"Yes, Christine, though you make me very proud now." Erik spoke, excitement showing in his voice as he eagerly looked around his room.

Christine giggled, and squeezed his hands as she dropped her head against his shoulder. He pulled her tight against him, placing the mask's lips against her forehead, murmuring lovely words as he spoke of all the songs he would write for her, and all the songs he wanted to hear her sing. Christine had never felt so complete. She felt so beautiful, so loved, so human. It was as though Erik had come across a broken vase, and glued the pieces back together again. She was in complete bliss, and she stared down at her wrists, where the red blush that had once flourished across her skin, was turning back to a healthy pale white, and Christine knew that Erik would look after her heart, though he needed to be more careful with her body, as she was still new to such powerful urges, and as she saw it, the mask was the only thing between them now.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	45. Chapter 45

_**Tom Odells's 'Another Love'**_

_I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care  
But it's so cold and I don't know where  
I brought you daffodils in a pretty string  
But they won't flower like they did last spring_

_And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright_  
_I'm just so tired to share my nights_  
_I wanna cry and I wanna love_  
_But all my tears have been used up_

_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_  
_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_  
_On another love, another love_  
_All my tears have been used up_

_And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight_  
_But my hands been broken, one too many times_  
_So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude_  
_Words they always win, but I know I'll lose_

* * *

Erik was happy to discover he could still be surprised by the little things Christine did. It was her fresh, open personality, so uninhibited and open minded. She saw good in everything, and her spirit was so joyful, that it was no wonder why she constantly had a smile on her face. When Erik had entered the music room, her back had been to him, and she turned slowly, smiling, though she spoke of her father, as she had been humming. Erik had regretted asking, her father was a sore point, but even as she mourned him she still managed to smile. Erik was envious of this man whom he had never met, a man who he would never get to meet, a man who consumed his angel's thoughts in ways that made Erik almost despise the man. It was unfair, Erik thought, that a dead man could hold so much sway over her, but Erik was here, alive and breathing, and every beat of his wicked heart depended on Christine's happiness. If only she could see how much he needed to hear her sing.

Christine had been staring at his hands, looking uneasy, and he realized she had been watching him wring his hands. He had been lost in his own thoughts, too consumed by greed to even understand what he had been doing, and he had looked down at them. They stung, the freshly scrubbed skin that had begun to harden now twisted about and stretched, and he quickly hid his hands from view so Christine would not see. She could very well say his hands did not disturb her, but he would not force her to look at them when he was only making things worse. He tried offering for them to do something different, but Christine insisted on his playing, pulling his hands from around his back and held them gingerly. Erik pulled a face, confused as Christine's hands felt very warm. He pulled his hands away to place them against her cheeks, and she smiled. She was very warm indeed, and Erik was pleased to think that his poor, cold hands would cool her down. He asked if everything was alright, but she only nodded silently. What had come over Christine? She wasn't sick, was she?

She turned away from him, to face the piano, and his hand had managed to drift through her hair and along the back of her neck, and a shiver ran down his back. Her skin was still warm, but Erik couldn't see his fingers, as Christine's ringlets hid them from view. Erik pulled his hand away, and slowly brushed her hair over her right shoulder. Christine had left him a space on his bench to her left, so he would be able to see her face clearly when he played, though he wouldn't be staring at her so directly. His mask would be facing the keys, but he was sure that he would watching her the entire time he played from the corner of his eyes. He sat down, doing exactly that, and he could see that Christine was watching him eagerly. She encouraged him to play whatever he wished, and it took Erik a few minutes to run through his entire collection in his head before he wondered if she would like to hear something other than his music. She might have preferred to listen to something she would know. The only problem with that was that he had no clue as to what she had heard, or what her father had trained her with.

After some careful consideration, he decided that 'Con te Partiro' was a reasonable song to play for her. He would have liked to have sung it for her, no doubt she would be charmed by that thought, but he needed to see how his music made her react before he would unleash the voice upon her. Erik hadn't been able to look at her while he had been playing, he had suddenly turned nervous. She wasn't doing anything, she hadn't touched him, or said a word. He mouthed the words, and blissfully tried to remember Christine's stunned face when they had been at the awards ceremony, and she had heard his music for the first time. He wanted Christine to cheer for him as she had on the night they had met, and Erik carefully opened one eye to look at her.

She was staring out of the window, transfixed by something, breathing deeply as she struggled to stay in her seat. The light that hit her face made her glow, but she looked as though there was something holding her in a fierce grip, and it was only because of polite company that she didn't fidget or complain. She was clutching onto her dress, and each drawn breath sounded so painful, and it was not the reward for his hard work that Erik had hoped. But then, Christine slowly began to raise her head as Erik came to the finishing note, her eyes closing, and Erik watched as he held down the final finishing keys, and Christine opened her lips and sang out the note, her whole body loosening up as she sat straighter, as though someone had taken hold of her head and was slowly lifting her to her feet. She remained in her seat though, and Erik watched her, dumbfounded as tears appeared in her eyes.

Had his music truly touched her? It had been nothing, Erik hadn't even tried his hardest, it hadn't even been his best work, but Christine had felt something, enough to bring her to tears, and enough to make her sing. It was only a single note, but it had been the most exquisite note, so full and clear, like crystal, and Erik wasn't even sure how to react. It still needed training, it was like a diamond that needed to be shaped into perfection, but he needed to hear her sing something else, anything so he could hear exactly where she needed to improve. Christine had said that one day she would sing, but she had also said that she needed time to finish mourning her father. Had playing for her been a mistake? She had been thinking of her father only a few minutes before, and now she was crying.

Christine opened her eyes, her eyes landing on the ceiling, and a look of confusion and panic took over her features. She lowered her head, lost in her own world, the tears in her eyes wounding Erik's heart as she finally looked up at him. She looked so relieved, so calm, as though she had finally seen the light, and Erik recognized the look of freedom in her eyes. She was _happy_.

She admitted her feelings, and confessed that her father had spoken of him, though not directly. Christine truly believed she belonged to him, and she offered her voice without thought, dedicating herself to him, her _teacher_.

_Oh Christine_. Erik thought, closing his eyes with rapture_. Were I a man like any other, I would kiss you. You shall sit upon the throne of music and all will envy and love you, Christine. I promise this._

She looked so beautiful, sitting before him, smiling at him. They were in their own world, it was just the two of them as they embraced one another, the whole world outside forgotten, their argument a thing of the past. Erik promised her a thousand songs, each one inspired by her, and Christine smiled as he spoke of each one, listing each of her attributes that he would compose in song, and she had laughed, twisting about in his arms as she joked that no one could write that many songs, and he had pretended to be insulted. If he said he would write a thousand songs, then he would, and he would still have plenty to write about afterwards, as Christine was a neverending source of surprise and delight for him.

He scrambled through his head, looking for anything else that would amuse her, and he jauntily played any tune that crossed his mind, as Christine continued to lean again him, her arms wrapped around his midriff as she watched him play, occasionally commenting on his song choice. She had even commented on his hands, that they were beautiful to watch, thought Erik had brushed off that comment. There was no beauty in him, whatsoever, and why she had chosen to see it in his hands puzzled him to no end. They were disgusting, but she watched them with such a content smile that he was inclined to believe that she meant her words.

Erik asked if she knew how to play the piano, but she shook her head. He carefully took her hand, the softness of her skin against his cracked palms feeling wonderful. She did not flinch, or blink, she simply sat up as she watched him place her hand on the keys on one end of the piano. He adjusted her fingers, pointing them out and naming each key, and he pressed down on each finger, the tips of their fingers touching as he showed her a chord, and he gave in to the thought that Christine was truly made for him.

How could he not believe it? Everything seemed too good to be true. It was like a crazy dream, one he feared he would wake up from.

Christine eagerly kept pressing the keys, keeping to the rhythm he had set for her, and she looked up at him with an adorably proud grin on her face. He smiled back, but sighed with the thought that she would never see him smile. She would never see his eyes, and she would never truly know that he was happy to be with her...

Perhaps it was time for a new mask.

Christine looked up at him, a small, secretive smile on her lips, and Erik hadn't been able to resist the pull of her perfumed skin, and he had buried the mask against her neck, breathing her in. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his mask as she held him to her chest, the mask's chin resting against her sternum, the nose against her jaw as she bowed her head. Her scent was heavenly, and Erik knew it was the mixed smell of her sun lotion and her own natural scent, but it smelled wonderful.

"Erik! That tickles!" She laughed louder, reaching up to hold the mask's curls around the ears.

"Oh? _Does_ it?" He teased, his arm slinking around her body to crawl up her back to hold her steady against him, his other arm rising up to tickle her around her ribs.

Christine tried to sit up straight, realizing what he was about to do, and she held herself away from him as she tried to escape his tickling, one hand trying to support her as she pushed it against his chest, the other resting on his shoulder. She laughed again, but tried to stop as she tried to be serious with him. But it was too late, as Erik's fingers were already prodding her, and she giggled, twisting about as she gasped for air. Erik leaned forward towards her, and her arm gave in, her muscles giving out as she no longer could hold herself away from him, and she collapsed into his body, her chest pressing against his, her arms crumpled up around his neck, her whole body pressed directly against his as her face slammed into his mask.

Erik faltered, very aware that her breasts were settling against his own chest, her stomach almost sinking into his and the hand he had used to tickle her was holding her ribs, only centimeters away from her bosom, right over her heart, where it beat so fast, Erik would have mistaken it for a hummingbird. He felt shame rise up in him, making him turn red as he suddenly grabbed her head and pulled her away, turning her head to look at him so he could see she was okay. She looked dazed, but laughed, reaching up to rub her head pathetically. She closed one eye, and stared at him with the other as she laughed.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay." She apologized. "We'll get there."

Erik had no clue what Christine meant, but it sounded good. He pointed at the mask foolishly, and mumbled, "The mask..."

He said it as though it was an apology, but he knew that no matter how many times he said sorry, it would not change a thing. Christine looked up at him, and lowered her hand, opening her other eye. She smiled sadly, giving him a very sympathetic look. She looked so crestfallen, but so serious as she looked up at him, and Erik wondered what she was thinking. She opened her mouth to say something, but a song that Erik was not familiar with rang out in the living room, and Christine blinked, turning in her seat to stare at the door.

"That's ... I have to get that!" Christine proclaimed, and scrambled off of the bench, away from Erik before he could say a word.

Christine opened the door, looking very determined, and Erik dumbly followed her, frowning all the while. Christine raced towards her purse, and Erik threw his hands up in confusion, so Nadir could see, who was sitting on the edge of the couch holding out Christine's purse. Nadir gave him a shrug, clearly not privy to anymore information than him. Christine took the purse and searched through it, her bracelet ringing like church bells as the tune continued on. It was quite beautiful, it was a string quartet playing some tune that made Erik think of water, babbling brooks and rushing streams. Christine pulled out her phone and stared at the screen. She paused, and blinked, and then _smiled_. She pressed some button, putting the phone to her ear, and _practically_ sang, "_Raoul_!"

Erik would have dropped his jaw if his mask would have let him. Christine said she would sing for no other, and yet this _boy _managed to make her call his name in a too familiar way!

"Raoul, I've had the most wonderful time, I'm sorry I didn't call you back, it's just been a whirlwind!" Christine said, smiling brightly as she looked up at Erik, rushing through her words. "That and the time zone difference, though that's hardly a good excuse. What time is it there ... Oh good, not too late then."

She laughed, running a hand through her hair as she sat herself down on the couch, leaning back into her seat. Erik sharply looked at Nadir, and hid his frustration quite well, he felt, until Christine laughed again. "Yeah, trust _them_."

Erik collapsed into the chair facing her, and rested his head against his palm as he rested his elbow on the armrest. He watched Christine, her eyes dancing with some kind of light that he had never seen before as they began talking about what sounded like life back in London. Did Raoul mean so much to her, enough to drive her away from him by making her wistful for London? Erik wanted to close his eyes and think, but he was enchanted by Christine's easy counternance and was forced to watch her smiles that had been caused by another man. Surely he was being foolish? Raoul was her friend, and that was that. That was what she said, and she meant every word, he was sure.

"Yeah, it's pretty brutal here. I need like, a cane or something to hit them away!" Christine joked, and mouthed to Erik, '_The photographers_', before Erik could react.

Interruption. That was all the boy was, just another interruption. It was nothing to be so concerned about.

"Oh, Erik's been treating me to ... What?"

Christine paused, listening to whatever Raoul had to say, and her eyes flicked up to the mask suddenly, looking very confused and hesitant. Erik could feel his eye twitch. Of course the boy would ask her if she had seen under the mask. Or maybe he was trying to convince Christine to leave him? Christine said that would never happen, but a part of Erik knew that the boy was right to be so concerned.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She said, and Erik adjusted his head in his hand so he didn't have to look at her.

He spied on Nadir, who was pretending to be on his phone, staring down at it blankly, but Erik could tell he was aware of the entire situation, and Nadir even mouthed, "_Wait_."

"Um, well, let me ask him." Christine said, and pulled the phone away from her face, placing her hand over the receiver, and said carefully, each word politely spoken, "Raoul would like a chat with you."

Erik looked up with such speed that he was sure he would have broken his neck if he hadn't been so stunned by Christine's words. "With me?"

"Yes. You don't have to, but I would like it if you got on with him. He's my best friend, and it would mean a lot."

"Whatever does he want to speak to me for?" Erik questioned. What right did the boy have to question him as such?

"I dunno, probably just wants to say hi. You are my boyfriend now. You needn't be scared, he's lovely."

"You say that about everyone." Erik said stiffly, a little put off.

"Please, Erik. Just say hi to him. You're going to meet him eventually."

Erik didn't know how to react to that, but he stiffly held his hand out as the idea of talking on the phone seemed a much better option than meeting him face to face. Christine smiled, and handed him the phone. Erik's eyes had been on Christine's face, but now they switched to Nadir as he held the phone up to the mask, and leaned back into the chair.

This was going to be interesting, at least.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	46. Chapter 46

_**Blue's 'Breathe Easy'**_

Cruel to the eye  
I see the way he makes you smile  
Cruel to the eye  
Watching him hold what used to be mine

Why did I lie?  
What did I walk away to find  
..why...why...

I can't breathe easy  
Can't sleep at night  
Till you're by my side  
No I can't breathe easy  
I can't dream yet another dream  
Without you lying next to me  
There's no air

Curse me inside  
For every word that caused you to cry  
Curse me inside

I won't forget, no I won't baby,  
I don't know why (don't know why)  
I left the one I was looking to find

* * *

Raoul wasn't sure what had made him phone Christine so late, he had only been checking in on Christine's apartment, so he could feed Paul, her long haired tabby cat, take in her mail and water her plants. He had promised to watch her place while she had been away, but he never thought he'd be so consumed in thought over her new relationship with _another_ man. A man who Raoul knew nothing about, and it made him extremely nervous that Christine was hanging around with him. She was happy though. Of every single picture that Raoul had managed to scrape up from the internet that had shown the two of them together, holding hands and cuddling each other, every single one showed Christine with the most beautiful, engaging smile that Raoul wished he had been the cause of. How did she think it was going to work out though? By Sunday, she'd be back in London, where she belonged, and Erik Destler would all alone, where be belonged, in New York. It didn't seem at all logical to Raoul, why Christine would start a relationship that was doomed to end? It was so unlike Christine.

Raoul was trying to ignore the point that Samantha had made the other day. There was always the possibility that this Erik character would follow her home, or worse, Christine might not even come back. That was what Raoul feared the most, that he would never see Christine again. She would never leave him behind, but if she found happiness elsewhere, then Raoul would not be able to convince her to stay, despite what he felt for her.

Raoul loved her, but he couldn't make Christine love him back. He had hoped that by just being there for her, she would come around and see him in a new light. It wasn't as though he couldn't provide for her. His family was well off, both of his parents were doctors, his mother a brain surgeon, his father a pediatrician, and his older brother, Phillip owned a successful chain of businesses in construction. But Christine had never paid attention to any of that. Christine, at heart, was a romantic. She wanted to be courted, to be treated like a princess, and Raoul was sure he could do all of those things, but the timing had just not been right. He should have gone with her, just so he could see for himself what this masked _genius_ wanted from her.

Raoul tried to scratch Paul's ears, who was walking along the kitchen countertop with a disagreeable look as Raoul tipped the last of the cat food onto a white plate, but Paul had never liked anyone besides Christine and ignored him completely. Raoul tried grabbing his attention with one of the cat toys that Christine's followers had sent her, plucking a small yellow stuffed mouse from an overflowing cardboard box that was sitting on the floor, but Paul promptly jumped down from the counter and walked out of the kitchen, going to sit on Christine's bed in her bedroom. Christine's apartment was a small, one bedroomed flat, but it was beautiful. Raoul had helped her find the place after her father died, though he had offered to let her stay with him. She had refused, claiming she needed her own space, and he had allowed it, though he had managed to secure her this apartment through his brother, who had friends within various estate agencies. He had helped her move in, helped her paint the walls pink and yellow, and the ceiling a bright blue. Soon, the whole place had begun to fill up with presents from her slowly rising amount of of followers, and now you couldn't even see most of the walls through most of the gifts, plants and decorations. It made Raoul happy whenever he came around to Christine's, it was such a lively, interesting place. In every direction, there were a thousand things to distract the eye, and it seemed as though Christine had a story for each little thing.

Before, Christine had been happy, though so fragile and lost without her father, making Raoul yearn for her all the more, his need to protect her overwhelming all else. She had moved through life, the only happiness she found was in her videos, but now, Christine was an entirely new person. She wasn't even making the videos she had promised she would upload everyday.

Raoul sniffed as he tossed the empty cat food tin into the recycling bin Christine had insisted he used before she left. "Fine, Paul."

He tiredly ran a hand through his auburn hair, closing his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts. Christine was fine, this wasn't a big deal. At least, he hoped it wasn't. Christine would be home in two days, she'd probably take a few days off to let all of the hype cool down, and then she'd be back at work, and Raoul would be back to making her cups of tea while she recounted her last couples of days. And who knew, maybe this Erik guy wouldn't be able to stick around. The newspaper made him sound like a very busy person, and he was a recluse after all, he wouldn't want to get on a plane, would he? Not with so many people looking at him.

Of course, he could always have his own private plane.

Raoul groaned again, and wandered over to Christine's bed, plopping himself down on the sheets as he tried to reason everything out in his head. There was no way that Christine would enter into a relationship so lightly. She had loved Raoul, at one point, he was sure, but it had not lasted, but what Raoul saw when he looked at Christine's face now was more than happiness. It was _love_. Not some playful, teasing schoolyard love, but _real_ love. And that was what was tearing Raoul apart. The fact that she was happy with someone else, when she could have been happy with him.

_Why did I lie to her? Why did I let her go? It wasn't my choice. She was upset and needed space, and it was the right thing to do._

It was hard to call it the right thing when the wrong thing seemed so much preferable. When her father died, he should have been there to comfort her, he should have been the one to hold her and love her and comfort her. So why did this masked _freak_ get to?

Raoul groaned again. He didn't mean it. He didn't even know the guy. He could have been perfectly normal, a nice guy. If only he could have talked with the guy, cleared a few things out, it would make him feel better to know what kind of person this Erik was. The mask, while certainly a factor, was not the only thing that worried him. He looked at the clock on the wall, and frowned. It was nearly 10pm, but for Christine, it would be about 5pm, wouldn't it? Christine had said there was a 4 or 5 hour time difference between London and New York. What would she be doing? Probably hanging around with her new boyfriend, he realized dully.

There was no reason why he _couldn't_ phone her. He'd just be calling to say hi, and see how things were getting on. That was all. And if she was in a good mood, then he'd ask about her boyfriend, in a casual, easygoing way. There'd be no harm in asking her if he could have a chat with Erik, she knew he would never do anything to upset her, and then he'd finally meet his opponent, so to speak. But that was even if she picked up. It was strange, to think that she might not. They had never gone so long without talking before, and Raoul wondered if Christine was at all upset that they hadn't spoken. It was hard not to think that way, she was after all, having a strange new experience, she wouldn't be thinking of him all the time, not the way that he did. Philip had called him obsessed, at one point, and Raoul was sometimes inclined to believe that accusation, but Philip didn't know how much Christine needed him. He had been the one to help her back onto her feet, he had been the one to get her back into the world, though she had been kicking and screaming all the way. And now Erik Destler was the one would be taking all of the credit.

He'd already brought up Christine's number on his phone without realizing it, gritting his teeth and pressed the call button before he even had a chance to really think it through. Christine picked up, to his delight, and Raoul had forgotten every thought that had consumed him for the last few days, as it was just so good to hear her voice again. She sounded breathless, but definitely over the moon. She had even sung his name, something that Raoul had not expected to hear again, and she had already started the conversation, rushing through it as though there wasn't enough time in the world. She apologized for not calling him back, but he had already forgiven her.

It felt great just chatting to Christine, and he happily gossiped about the Morning Mafia, as they called the crew that handled the morning shift, as they'd all fallen head over heels with Christine and Erik, and it was all they would ever talk about. '_Oh they're so cute!_', '_They're complete opposites but it works!_', and '_Doesn't Christine look happy?_' was all Raoul heard when the three of them were together, and to be honest, it drove him up the wall. Samantha had learned not to talk about Christine and Erik in front of him, as she could see it was irritating him, but Emma and Jo were completely oblivious to everything around them and kept bringing in newspapers with pictures of the happy couple, showing him their phones when a new report came out. It had only been four days, but there was plenty for them both to dissect and analyze, suddenly becoming detectives. Only earlier that day, Jo had come running into the kitchen area where Raoul had been restocking the straws to show him some posts made on some social media site he was familiar with. It had shown pictures of Christine and Erik outside some store in New York, striding towards a limousine, and Jo's red nails tapped impatiently as she pointed something out on the screen.

"That's a bracelet!" She had said, pushing the phone closer to Raoul's face. "They're walking out of Tiffany's, and she has a new bracelet!"

"Christine doesn't need jewellery though," Raoul has asked, confused. Christine had never accepted jewellery from _him_. He turned back to the straws as he angrily jammed them into the container. "Christine has jewellery, she probably took some with her. And how you do even know it's Tiffanys?"

"Because, you can see the end of sign right here," Jo said, lifting her nail up to point at what Raoul could see was '-ny's & Co'. "And in this picture, she _isn't_ wearing a bracelet! He's bought her _Tiffany's, _Raoul!"

Raoul had tried to be happy for Christine, at first, he had been very confused, but this relationship was quickly spinning out of hand. Christine was going to get hurt if she didn't slow down. And it didn't help that the media was going to be following her everywhere, something that made Raoul wonder if maybe the relationship would even last, as reporters and photographers could get pretty obsessed too. He had mentioned it to her over the phone, and Christine had laughed, making a joke out of the situation. They spoke of other things, mostly about life back in London, about the cafe, about Paul. Raoul managed to casually ask if Erik was there, and she mumbled yes, quietly to him, making him wonder if Erik was listening in to their conversation. He tried to turn the conversation back to talking about her mail from her followers. There wasn't anything too interesting, but there were some packages that he had picked up for her. She said to leave them, and then tried getting Raoul to talk about Erik, asking him what he thought. What was Christine expecting to hear? Surely not congratulations? How could he congratulate something he wasn't even sure was a good thing.

Christine tried to tell him what they had done over the last few days, and she had been about to tell him what Erik had treated her to that morning, but Raoul already knew. Erik had taken her to Tiffanys and bought her a new bracelet, he didn't need reminding.

"Can I talk to him?" Raoul asked, bursting in before she could finish her sentence.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She replied uneasily, after a few seconds silence.

"Why? I just want to get to know him, Christine. I want to see if he's good enough for you." Raoul persuaded. "I mean, if you're worried about the fact that we once dated, then you needn't be."

"Um, well, let me ask him." She said, still sounding uneasy.

It wasn't exactly putting Raoul's mind at ease if Christine was unsure whether or not it was okay to let them talk. Something in her voice told him the issue was with _Erik_, and not with him. Raoul held the phone closer to his ear, trying to hear anything. Christine was talking to someone, but he couldn't make out the other person's voice. It was deep, very masculine, and it seemed to be surprised. What had Erik expected, that her friends would let her make big important decisions such as this without making sure everything was alright? Maybe Erik didn't speak to too many people, he was a recluse after all. He wasn't simple was he?

"Hello. This is Erik Destler, you are Raoul, I presume?" Came a voice on the other end of the line, and for one frightening second, Raoul thought his heart had stopped.

The voice ... It was so powerful, so destructive, so beautiful, Raoul hadn't been able to answer at first. He had only stammered out some garbled noises, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to understand what he had just heard. It was impossible. No human could have a voice such as that! It couldn't have been Erik! It made Raoul think of purple tinted galaxies and the vast deepness of the sea. It was just a voice, just a voice! A terrible, haunting voice that did not like Raoul.

"Christine, you don't own a goldfish, do you?" Raoul heard the voice ask mischievously. It was so dark, so suggestive, and Raoul realized that the voice was making fun of him. In the background, he could hear Christine laugh, and ask, "_No, why_?"

"Oh, nothing," The voice replied, laughing along with her. "I thought your friend was going to say something, but I don't hear him. He must have hung up..."

"I have not!" Raoul replied angrily.

"Ah, there you are! We lost we lost you." The voice laughed, in a teasing, light way. "You _are_ Raoul?"

"Yes, I am." Raoul answered. "And I wanted a word with you."

"That much is _obvious_." The voice proclaimed, sounding very bored, but Raoul could hear Christine in the background, saying that name, _Erik, _and he knew she was reprimanding him as _Erik_ suddenly said quite pleasantly, "What is it I can do for you?"

"Well..." Words wouldn't come to mind. "I..."

"I don't mind answering your questions, but I don't like my time being wasted when I am with Christine. So perhaps, next time, you ought to write them down so you don't have this problem. I recommend notecards, they came in quite useful when I received my award the other night." The voice boasted triumphantly.

"I do not need to write anything down, I just wanted to have a chat with you. I just wanted to get to know you, mate." Raoul said defensively. "_Alright_?"

The voice sighed, and Raoul took a deep breath too. They were both just frustrated, that was all. They were both just trying to protect their interests, which was Christine. Raoul leaned back on Christine's bed, propping himself up with one arm, holding the phone to his ear, as he ran a hand through his hair.

"_Go on_." Christine's voice mumbled, in the background. "_Play nice_."

"My apologies," Erik said, though Raoul could hear that he wasn't sorry in the least. "I understand why you would be concerned. Christine is your closest friend, and you want to make sure that she isn't going to get hurt. I can assure you, Christine will come to no harm while she is under my protection."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Raoul said blankly, a little nonplussed about the whole situation. He asked, for lack of any other question coming to mind, "She havin' fun?"

"_Is_ she having fun? I do believe so," Erik answered, and Raoul stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes at the thought of this guy just correcting his grammar. How old was this guy? He sounded like he was in his 40's or something, he was so old! "I took her to see the Statue of Liberty, and we went to a party last night, and I took her shopping this afternoon. "

"Yeah, I saw." Raoul said sourly. It was hard being nice to someone who wasn't trying. So maybe _he_ would have to play a little unfairly. "It's good, I wouldn't want her to be stuck inside all day. She's kind of a free spirit."

"Yes, I agree." Erik chuckled at the last comment, completely ignoring Raoul's jab at his being a recluse, and Raoul felt disgusted by the guy. He wasn't interested in Christine, he was just trying to smooze her so he could bed her!

"As her teacher, I think-"

"...Teacher?" Raoul asked, confused. Weren't they dating? What was this talk of teaching?

"Yes, as her vocal instructor, I think that her 'free spirit' will be a great asset to her-"

"Vocal instructor? She's ... She's singing?" Raoul asked, bewildered. Christine was _singing_?

"She has agreed to allow me to teach her, though I think we should hold off from the lessons, as I think Christine has a lot on her mind right now. She needs time, just to get used to the idea of singing again."

"Lessons?" Christine was singing again. How was Christine singing again? 'Gustave' had been her final song, the one to say goodbye to her past life. It had made Raoul hopeful. If she was ready to say goodbye to her past life, it meant that she would be open to start a new future, and maybe, with him. "But what about her father?" Raoul asked, pressing the phone harder into his ear. "Four days ago she couldn't think of him without lashing out, now she's _singing_?"

_He's done something to her. Anyone would do whatever that voice told them to! It's so hypnotic!_

"Do you want me to pass you on to her? I'm sure she could explain." Erik replied haughtily. "It was entirely her decision though, I can assure you of that!"

"Sure, though I don't think I'll understand." Raoul mumbled, but then turned serious. "But one thing, before you go, _Erik_..."

"Oh, _Raoul_?"

"Christine has been my friend since we were six years old. Her dad used to tell us stories. He was a good guy, who loved his daughter. He raised her to be a good girl, to love everyone, and see the good in everything. Which is why I didn't want her to go to America. I knew someone would see the good in her and try to warp it. So if there's anything you can take away from this conversation, then it's this: If you break Christine's heart, I'll break your mask. I'd like to see you be the genius recluse then, okay mate?"

There was nothing. No reply, no noise to indicate he had heard him, nothing.

"Raoul? You heard about the singing? Isn't it great? I can't wait to start singing again, but I think Erik's right, I need to ease back into it, it's been so long since I've had lessons, and it's all just so wonderful-" Christine excitedly babbled. Erik must have just handed the phone straight to her. He wondered if Erik had even heard him.

Raoul eased back in Christine's bed, feeling more reassured by her voice as she began to talk about Erik's music, and how it had made her realize that singing would always be a part of her life, and she could never turn music away forever. Raoul's mind was racing, though, as his thoughts drifted in and out of his head, barely keeping up with Christine's excited talking. She had hardly stopped for breath, she was just going on and on about Erik. How could Christine be so happy with _him_? How could she be singing? She was in pain, still grieving for her father, wasn't she?

_Wasn't_ she?

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	47. Chapter 47

_**Jennifer Rush's 'The Power of Love'**_

_The whispers in the morning  
Of lovers sleeping tight  
Are rolling by like thunder now  
As I look in your eyes  
I hold on to your body  
And feel each move you make  
Your voice is warm and tender  
A love that I could not forsake_

_'Cause I am your lady_  
_And you are my man_  
_Whenever you reach for me_  
_I'll do all that I can_

_Even though there may be times_  
_It seems I'm far away_  
_Never wonder where I am_  
_'Cause I am always by your side_

_'Cause I am your lady_  
_And you are my man_  
_Whenever you reach for me_  
_I'll do all that I can_

_We're heading for something_  
_Somewhere I've never been_  
_Sometimes I am frightened_  
_But I'm ready to learn_  
_'Bout the power of love_

* * *

Christine wasn't sure exactly what to expect, when she had handed to the phone to Erik. She knew it hadn't been a good idea, not when Erik already had less than ideal preconceptions of Raoul, but it would make a good first step towards friendship. She _hoped_ for friendship between them, but it was becoming a less likely scenario than she had believed a few minutes ago. Their conversation sounded very friendly, from Christine's point of view, though it started oddly. Erik had mentioned something about a goldfish, and Christine had laughed, out of confusion, amused by the sudden appearance of Erik's good mood. It seemed as though Erik was trying to put on a friendly face, so to speak, but Christine could tell from the way he clutched at his armrest that he was still scared of Raoul. No, Christine corrected, it was what Raoul represented. If Christine could just make Erik see Raoul for who he was, and not what Erik thought of him to be, then she was sure that they'd get along. They didn't have that much in common, but Raoul could make anyone feel better about themselves, something she felt Erik could do with in his life, and Erik ... well, Erik didn't really have anything that Raoul needed, but Raoul didn't have that many male friends, so she supposed that a bit of male company wouldn't hurt him.

Of course, this was all just fantasy, she still had no clue what would be happening on Sunday morning. Would Erik ask her to stay, or would he follow her? What if he didn't even choose either of those options, what if he just let her leave? She tried not to think about it. Erik would know what was best, and she would trust his decision.

Erik's tone had gone flat again as they both bickered over the phone. She had expected a small squabble, but she wasn't sure what of make of the conversation between them. She had no idea what Raoul was saying, but some of what Erik said made it easy to imagine what Raoul was saying. He probably wasn't asking what Erik liked to do on weekends. Christine could only roll her eyes, they were being so silly over nothing. She knew Erik was just jealous, trying to mark his territory, and Raoul was just looking out for her, but it was all swings and roundabouts. Christine leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees as she pleaded him to play nice. Erik was not at all interested in speaking with Raoul, but he was trying, she could see. He was _still_ speaking with Raoul, after all. He hadn't hung up just yet. Christine imagined that Erik was not the type of person to pander to other people if it did not interest him. She wondered what that said about her, then. Erik obviously wanted to keep Christine close to him, so maybe he saw this as just another trick to perform in order to keep her around. That didn't exactly make Christine very happy, to think that Erik was just putting up with Raoul, but it was a start, she reminded herself.

Erik apologized, and he eased into his seat, drumming his fingers along the armrest. The conversation sounded as though it was turning out fine, as Erik even laughed, mentioning something about a free spirit when he spoke of her voice, his mask tilted up to face her. She blushed, smiling as she hid her face in her hands. Trust Erik to slip into the conversation something about her singing. She had a feeling that Erik would try to use it against Raoul, but she was in far too good a mood to berate Erik for it. She hoped Raoul would be happy for her, he had always said that he missed her singing. Ever since they were six, he had always pestered her to sing. Endless days filled with her voice and his compliments had been their way of wasting time during the holidays. Raoul had been upset when she had stopped singing. It was clear he knew the reason why she had stopped, and he never pestered her on it, never asking questions, but surely, now he would have questions. She could hear his voice now, though not clearly enough to hear individual words. She could hear the tone of his voice though, and he definitely did not sound happy, rather he sounded horrified. It made Christine wonder what Raoul was thinking. Wasn't he happy to learn that Christine was singing again? Or was there something she was missing?

Erik offered to pass the phone over to her, as Raoul's confused questions evidently came. Christine stuck her hand out, expecting Erik to hand it over, but Erik stopped talking, instead listening to something that Raoul was saying. Christine couldn't hear anything, but it must have been something unpleasant, as Erik didn't move, instead just staring straight ahead towards the bookshelves behind her. He began digging his bruised nails into the leather seat, and then, slowly held the phone out to Christine.

She took it, watching Erik carefully, and continued chatting with Raoul, though he wasn't paying particularly close attention. Christine felt a little insulted, but she brushed it off. They both had obviously gone through some great ordeal that Christine wasn't aware of. The both of them both seemed so lost in thought, and Christine wondered just what was going on. Erik was staring down at the floor, but he got up to leave, walking slowly, almost thoughtfully if Christine could even describe it that way. His tall figure still managed to take Christine's breath away, his broad back facing her as he entered the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

"Raoul, sorry, can we chat later? Gotta take care of something." Christine murmured, and Raoul awoke from his daydreaming, clearing his throat.

"Has he gone?"

"Yeah. I need to check on him-"

"Christine, stay away from him. I'm serious, he sounds crazy and dangerous. I don't know what you see in this guy, but he's not right for you."

"_What_?"

"I mean it. There's something off about this guy. Have you heard his voice? It's like ... It's like nothing I've ever heard before."

"I know," Christine said, smiling. "He has a beautiful voice."

"_Christine_, focus. What do you know about him? I mean _really_ know about him." Raoul muttered.

"I know everything I need to know, Raoul. We're still just getting to know each other. Erik doesn't know everything about _me_." Christine answered, frowning.

"Christine, you're like an open book, you don't hide anything." Raoul asserted, sighing. "But that still isn't the point. The newspapers have hardly anything on him, nothing before ten years ago. All they know, is that he's French, has no family, and he's a genius at everything. That, and he has the social skills of a lamp. I mean how did you two even get on? That guy is so rude."

Christine laughed. "He was perfectly charming, a real gentleman. I did most of the talking though. And so what if the newspapers don't have anything on him, I'm glad of it. It wouldn't be fun getting to know him then, would it? If I just had a list of everything he's ever done, every second of his past recorded down, for everyone to see, then ... Well, I guess I wouldn't be as interested, you know? I like him, and I like getting to know him. He's so secretive, but it's so rewarding when he does open up to me."

"Christine, this guy could be a psychopath. He could really hurt you."

Christine couldn't ignore that jab at Erik, despite the fact that she was staring at her wrists. They didn't look as bad as before, but it was still obvious. It was a light pink, a strange contrast to her alabaster white skin. "Hey! There's no need for that! Okay, he's a bit eccentric, but honestly, I think every celebrity here has got a screw loose. You won't _believe_ who I met."

Raoul, momentarily distracted, asked, "Who?"

Nadir cleared his throat, and Christine looked up as she gave a shy glance to him, who in return gave an empathetic smile, getting up to give her some space. He wandered off into the kitchen, Christine watching nervously, and she turned back to whisper into the phone, "_Carlotta Giudicelli_!"

"You mean the Opera singer? The Tosca lady?"

"Yeah! And she really doesn't like me." Christine sighed. "Well, she doesn't like me and Erik, that is."

Raoul perked up. "Oh yeah, why?"

"Because Erik didn't want to bed her." Christine said, feeling very smug as she began to grin, and it was evident in her voice that she was pleased with the turn of conversation. "So I don't think he _just_ wants to bed me, Erik has been properly dating me. I mean, he turned down Carlotta. And you know how beautiful she is."

"Yeah..." Raoul mumbled. "She _is_ pretty fit. But why did he turn her down?"

Christine pursed her lips. "Well, because she got too close, and he wasn't ready. From what it sounds like, she was jumping the gun and he wasn't comfortable."

"Oh." Raoul answered, dejected.

"But listen, I'll call you later, okay? Before I get back, and we'll have a proper chat, alright?" Christine said, looking towards Erik's bedroom door.

"...Okay." Raoul grumbled.

"Alright, I'll chat with you later. Oh, is Paul okay? He is eating, isn't he?"

There was a slight pause before Raoul answered. "...Yeah, I think he's just waiting for me to leave. He really doesn't like me."

"He doesn't like anyone," Christine reminded him gently. "Okay, I'll pop off now. Leave some catnip out for him, that'll lighten his mood. I'll talk to you later. Ta-ra!"

Christine hung up the phone before Raoul could convince her to stay on the line a little longer, and without looking at it, she tossed it onto the couch. Nadir appeared back in the room, and it was evident he had been listening in to the conversation. She ignored him however, and approached the bedroom door, and pressed her hands to it, her ear against the cool steel door. She couldn't hear anything. There was no movement from inside the room. She tried the doorknob, but it was still locked.

"Erik, are you okay?" Christine asked, resting her forehead to the door. "Can you hear me?"

"...Yes, Christine." Erik answered. "I just needed some fresh air."

Christine smiled sadly. He had taken his mask off then, she assumed. "Do you need a minute?"

"Yes, please, Christine." Erik affirmed. "I shall be out soon."

"O-Okay." Christine mumbled, licking her lips. "I ... I just wanted to say, I'm really proud of you, Erik. You did really well handling the situation. And I want you to know, that I'm here. I'm here for you, I mean. I want you to know, that I'm always going to be here for you, and no-one should tell you any different, cos it's not true. I'm here, if you need someone to listen."

There wasn't a reply. Not one that Christine could hear, anyhow. Until, "You are too kind, Christine."

"Not at all!" Christine protested. "Being kind has nothing to do with it. You're upset, I can tell that, and you need comforting, so I'm here. I'm here to comfort you Erik, not bring you more pain. I'm sorry if that is what I've done, I don't know what Raoul said to you, but I hope you'll come back to me soon. So stay in there as long as you need, I'll be out here when you come out."

"I do not need to stay in here any longer, my dear. Please step away from the door." Erik said stoically, though Christine could hear the emotion behind it. It was subtle, but she could hear how her words had affected him. It was good, she reasoned, it meant he was taking her seriously.

Christine did as he asked, taking a few steps back, and cast a look over to Nadir, who was smiling nostalgically, from the faraway look in his eyes. He looked happy, at least, and he looked up at her, still sadly smiling. Christine was about to ask what had made him so sad, but the bedroom door behind her opened, and Erik stepped out, adjusting his mask. He cleared his throat, and turned to Christine.

"What Raoul said, it's not important. What's important, is what _you_ say. And if you say that this friend of yours, Raoul, is a good man, then I believe you. I will do better next time, I promise, I will not let you down."

"Oh, Erik!" Christine cried, and jumped up to wrap her arms around his neck. "I'm so happy to hear you say that, that's wonderful! You'll really like Raoul, once you two get to know each other, you'll two will be as thick as thieves, just you see!"

Christine planted a kiss on the mask's cheek, as Erik's arm warily came around her body to hold her. "Yes, we shall have to see."

Christine twisted her head, so her cheek was pressed to his. "Are you still worried that Raoul will take me away from you?"

"I fear that any man will take you away from me." Erik answered truthfully. "But I know that you not leave me. That was what you said, wasn't it? Christine is not leaving."

"That's right!" Christine laughed joyfully, and Erik took a deep breath of relief. "I'm your girlfriend, and you're my boyfriend, and that means we're serious."

Christine snuggled into his shirt, hiding her face in Erik's neck as she happily hummed, to show her contentment. Erik sighed too, letting out a soft hum of his own, to match her happiness. He rubbed her back, and gently lowered her to the ground, as she had been on the tips of her toes to hug him.

"Now, would you like to go back to the music room, or shall we sit in here for a bit?" Erik asked, gesturing to the couch.

"Well, I'd like to cuddle with you for a bit, seeing as you've been good." Christine said, smiling as Erik's hand came to rest on the top of her head. He stroked a few ringlets, pinching them between his fingers. He seemed so engrossed by their springiness.

"Another present, Christine? You are beginning to spoil me." Erik whispered.

"Of course. You've been spoiling me, so I think it's only fair I get to spoil you. Think of it as a present for being good to Raoul." Christine said, and raised herself up to kiss him again on the molded plastic cheek.

"A present ... For being good?" Erik echoed, reaching up to press his fingers to the mask's cheek. "For being good."

"Yes Erik." Christine said, smiling. "Now come sit with me."

She took his other hand, and guided him over to the couch, as Erik continued to prod at the mask's cheek, silently following her without question. She settled him down on the couch, though he moved rather slowly, as if in a dream. She settled herself around him, wrapping her arms around him, and Erik. It felt right to be in his arms. She knew she should have listened to Raoul, he had always been right about matters she was unsure of, but she was sure of _this_. She had never felt so confident about a decision in all her life.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, they've been wonderful! I love reading each and every one! I'm sorry these come out at irregular times, I'm trying to post them when I can!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	48. Chapter 48

_**John Mayer's 'Who you Love'**_

_You'll love who you love who you love_  
_My girl she ain't the one that I saw coming_  
_Sometimes I don't know which way to go_  
_And I try to run before but I'm not running anymore_  
_Because I fought against it hard enough to know_

_That you'll love who you love who you love_  
_You'll love who you love who you love_  
_Oh you can't make yourself stop dreaming of who you're dreaming of_  
_If it's who you love then it's who you love_

_My boy, he ain't the one that I saw coming_  
_And some have said his heart's too hard to hold_  
_And it takes a little time but you should see him when he shines_  
_Because you never wanna let the feeling go_

* * *

Raoul, Erik decided, was an idiot. From the moment Erik placed Christine's phone to his ear, the whole conversation had been a mix of incredulous surprise and bitter jealousy. How Christine had managed to find Raoul interesting was a mystery, and it only further baffled him that Christine would _want_ to continue her friendship with him, but Erik was not about to tell her that. It would only distress her, and Erik wanted to keep her far from distress. He would play nice in front of her, and if the boy was pleasant enough, then Erik was prepared to fake friendship with him, but Erik would, in private, always hate and resent the foolish young dimwit. He had quite happily taken control of the conversation the moment Raoul had flustered himself after he heard Erik's voice, and he mocked Raoul to throw him off, to show him who was in control, but Christine had been watching him, and he had to choose his words carefully. Christine's hopeful, wide eyes had been locked on his mask the entire time, an unsure, but encouraging smile adorning her open face. Erik had been too worked up to watch her properly. He had been listening to the timbre of Raoul's voice. It had been smooth, deep, and very masculine, with a clear, Oxford accent, so unlike Christine's, and Erik could hear the sincerity in the boy's voice. Raoul was serious about her, despite Erik's attempts at scaring him off, and he had spoken with a familiarity that made Erik very uncomfortable.

Erik wasn't ashamed of using any means to make his place known, as he proudly boasted of the delights he had so far given Christine, his lips twisting into a cruel smile as he managed to slip in the fact that he was now also her singing teacher, as well as her _boyfriend_, a word that he would have to remember to use more often around Raoul, when the occasion for them to communicate came again. Erik would have laughed outright at the sound of Raoul stumbling over his words once he found out, another victory, in Erik's eyes. Erik had been taking too much delight in this! They had only been speaking for a few minutes, but it was enough to turn the boy into a quivering mass of insecurity. Years, he had spent with Christine, probably spent trying to get her to sing, or smile, and Erik had only known Christine for four days and had managed to do both! Erik had even offered to pass the phone to Christine, so he could hear it from her own lips, but Raoul had surprised him. He suddenly grew a backbone, and his voice had turned venomous, cold-blooded, as he offered a warning that Erik would not soon forget.

_If you break Christine's heart, I'll break your mask._

That had struck Erik hard, and the words had echoed around in his head, as though they were bouncing off the inside of the mask, hitting him over and over in his face. He could feel his whole body tense with the thought of a broken mask. Erik's face, each mound, ridge and crack began to ache and itch as he handed the phone over to Christine, almost paralyzed with the thought of Raoul having to defend Christine from him. Would it come to that? If things got too far, would he step in and take her away? If it was for the best...

_If you break Christine's heart._

What did Raoul know of Christine's heart? What had she told him? What _were _Christine's feelings towards him? Christine had made it very clear that she was staying, but that could have been out of pity for all Erik knew. She could have been charmed at first, but Erik's wild outbursts, and his hostile reactions to people other than her should have driven her away, if it wasn't for her tender heart and forgiving nature. It didn't matter. Erik was grateful for every second spent with her, even if she only saw him with rose tinted glasses.

Erik had calmly left the room, a rising sense of panic dawning on him as he entered his bedroom, locked the door behind him, and scrambled to get the mask off, throwing it far from him onto the bed, and buried his face in his scrawny, bruised hands. He felt every bump, every wrinkle, every fold beneath weathered hands that begged him to stop reminding him of his misfortune. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, holding his fingers over his swollen eyebrows as he tried to block out any light. The light was his enemy, it bared all truths. Darkness was his friend, where his demons hid, and he needed something to replace the evil thoughts that consumed his mind.

Something was shining in his eyes, through his fingers, flickering like a candle. Erik meekly opened one eye, and saw light reflecting off of one of the crystals that Christine had left on the table. Erik blinked, his eyelashes catching against the dead skin on his fingers, and he lowered his hands slowly, staring at the crystals, slowly stepping forward as he reached out with both hands. He took the crystals carefully, and left them up to his face, so he could get a closer look. It was oddly symbolic. They looked like tiny stars, and it warmed his heart to think that Christine had bought him such a thoughtful gift. It was his first present that had been given to him with the hope of pleasing him, and that was what she wanted, to please him. In the music room, she had asked if her singing would make him proud. What did it _mean_? Did it go hand in hand with pity, or was Nadir right? Was there something he was missing? Nadir had told him to pay a little more attention to Christine, to watch her closely, but that had only tempted Erik to touch her more often. How frustrating it was, that Erik could love her, but she could not love him. What cruel twist of fate had brought them together? What evil god had given Erik a glimpse of a happy future, only to close the curtains to forbid him from looking?

Erik stroked the crystals warily. If he did not have Christine's love, he was not sure he could go on living. She was perfect, she was everything he would ever need, and without her love, he would be back in darkness. She had brought light to his world, blinding and angelic, and to have it taken away, would mean that the darkness would return, and so would the demons. They had been quiet since that morning, and it was as though she had swept them all away, clearing his mind of all evil suspicions.

Erik sighed. He had been despicable to Christine's friend. The boy did not deserve his wrath, any more than Erik deserved Christine. She had asked only that he be civil with Raoul, and he had acted abominably. What had Christine thought of him? Was she disgusted, or angry? She would want to defend her friend, even though he had also been quite vile, in Erik's opinion. There was a knock at the door and Christine's worried voice sounded out, calling for him. Erik clutched the crystals to his chest, whipping his head around, about to shoot for the door, but he remembered that the door was locked and he stayed crouched on the floor. That was it, she was coming to tell him off. But there was no anger in her words. She paid him more compliments, though Erik had no clue why. Christine should have been rebuking him, but instead she was offering to comfort him, and to listen to him. She wanted to understand him, he remembered. He had thanked her for her kind words, puzzled by her actions, but she rejected his thanks, proclaiming that '_being kind had nothing to do with it_'. He was in pain, she thought, and that meant she needed to help him. That was how Christine saw it. It did not matter how he had acted towards Raoul, she saw he had become upset, and she had formed the decision to make him feel better came above scolding. Yes, that was it. Christine would scold him later, and Erik would take his punishment.

Erik stood, taking his mask from the bed, and laid the crystals down on the grey silk sheets, and felt his face settle around the inside of the mask as he placed the two halves of the mask together, the familar click confirming that the mask was sealed. He came out, after he asked her to step back. He didn't want to open the door to see her face turn angry at the sight of him. Her back had been to him, and he had managed to mumble out a poor apology, promising that he would do better, for her, and he waited for the barrage of insults, but Christine only jumped up at him, swinging her arms around his neck, calling his name so happily that it had almost stunned him into silence. Where were the disappointed glances? The accusing tones? The crying? His mother had always cried when he misbehaved. When he was naughty, his mother punished him, cursing at him and throwing things at him, but Christine wasn't, and it was beginning to confuse him. Christine hadn't cried at all, she had never screamed, and she hadn't even insulted him yet. He offered to take her back into the music room, but instead, she had asked to _cuddle_ with him. He had been good. She said those exact words. He had been good. Christine was _forgiving_ him.

Christine was rewarding him for being 'good to Raoul'. Erik was beginning to wonder what conversation she had been listening to, as he was pretty sure that Raoul would have spouted all sorts of horrible things about him to her. What _had_ Raoul said to her? It must not have been anything too bad, as Christine was now giving him a present. Erik tried not to show his alarm as he realized that Christine wasn't going to punish him at all for his actions. Erik had never had forgiveness. It was a strange concept to him, receiving a present for being good, but he was happy to let Christine think he did not need punishment if she was allowing him to hold her again.

_Well I shall just have to be good again then._ Erik thought, as Christine coyly guided him to the couch, smiling at him shyly.

She sat him down, and he let her. He could hardly think straight, and Christine was only getting sweeter and sweeter, as she lifted his arms up so she could encompass his body with her tiny hands, and she pressed herself into his side, beginning to grin. Erik's arms landed gingerly around her back, as she turned away from Nadir and curled herself up against him, her feet tucked beneath her on the couch, hidden by her blue dress. Erik wasn't sure what to do with the other hand, and he was about to rest it on the couch's armrest, but she saw him fumble, and she took his fingertips, guiding his hand to her thigh. She smiled, and rubbed his hand encouraging him to let it sit there, though Erik could feel a blush creep up his face as he remembered the night before. He tried to casually pull it away, but his hand wouldn't move, and it playfully pinched her skin, something that made Erik sharply look up at her, but she was already smiling. She laughed, running her free hand through her hair. Erik smiled too, rubbing her thigh with his thumb.

Nadir turned the television on, passing the remote to Christine, who immediately passed it to Erik, shrugging as she declared she'd rather let Erik put something on, and Erik had changed from the news channel, browsing through different shows, occasionally stopping to watch some comedy, or long enough to let Christine watch an advert, to his and Nadir's amusement. Some time had passed when Erik finally found something Christine would enjoy. It was a TV show that Christine had mentioned earlier that day, when they had gone into some entertainment store. It was some show that Erik didn't understand, a fantasy drama that Christine said she had been following for some time, but none of it made any sense to him. Christine was quite happy though to explain who the characters were, the basic backstory, and what had happened in the last episode. It had gotten to the point where Erik was no longer paying attention to the show, and was instead listening to everything that Christine was telling him. His mind was too clouded with rampant thoughts, about Raoul, punishments and rewards. Listening to Christine was remarkably easy, and he could forget everything.

"-And then in the next episode, we find out that Jocai's actually serving on the other side, and his father's broadsword can change its allegiance too." Christine said, sucking on her spoon, after jabbing it eagerly towards the large screen. Nadir had brought her a bowl with fresh fruit neatly cut up into little cubes for her, and Erik had watched with hesitation. Nadir had removed the offending tray from sight, but Erik could still see the tomato soup on Christine's dress. "Cos everyone's theory is that the sword is enchanted with his mother's blood, but I'm not sure."

Christine pursed her lips, tapping the spoon against her chin. Erik was trying to follow the story, but there were several different stories within the show, and it was nearly an hour long. How Christine managed to follow it was a mystery to him, but she was happy. Nadir looked at his watch, and sniffed.

"Alright, I think after this I should escort you home, Christine." He said, lowering his wrist as he turned back to the TV.

Erik felt Christine move beneath him, and she nodded, slowly. "Okay."

She didn't sound happy now. "Do you want to go?" Erik asked.

Christine winced. "Not really. Not yet, at least. But I do need to make another video. I try to upload two videos a week, and I'm trying to stick to that rule, though it can be really hard sometimes. So, I'm gonna upload something before I go to bed, so that way, I can enjoy my last two days with you."

Ah yes, two days. Erik could count it as three if he managed to see her before she got on her plane on the Sunday morning. If she got on her plane. Erik was feeling more and more attached to Christine, and not just in the way he loved her. He didn't like the idea of Christine leaving his side. How could he watch over her if she was in London? How could he love her from so far away? How would she ever learn to love him? He would only be able to watch her videos, and she would only be a pane of glass away. He would not be able to follow her, London might as well have been another planet, and the idea of leaving his home, his sanctuary, made Erik want to hide his face in Christine's hair again.

Christine shook his arm, jolting him awake. "Erik? You okay?"

Erik nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said I thought I might do this video on the party last night. Just talking about who we met, I dunno, I'll think about it in the limo, but what do you think? What would you like to see a video of?"

Erik smiled, brushing a hair away from her cheek. "Anything. I'll be happy to watch anything you make."

"Aww," Christine sighed, and pressed her soft lips to Erik's fingertips, kissing them. It made Erik's heart race every time. "But seriously, I have a system for picking these things, and this whole week has just kind of pointed at that system and laughed."

Erik was well aware of her 'system'. It was basically a jar of ideas that her followers sent in. They would give her some unusual or interesting concepts to put in video form, and Christine placed each strip of paper with an idea written out, with the follower's username written beneath it, into a jar, and at the end of every video, Christine would stick her hand into the jar and randomly select an idea, usually pulling a silly face as she dug around the glass. It made for an interesting 'system'.

"I just hope my followers aren't going to be upset. They were looking forward to this, and some of them wanted to come say hi and get photos, but I think that's sort of over now."

"I'm sorry, Christine. It is my fault, I shouldn't be keeping you all to myself." Erik said guiltily. He hadn't even thought that there would be other people that Christine would want to see while she was in New York. Of course she would want to see her followers. They meant so much to her, and for him to hide her away from them must have been a pressing point in her mind. Raoul's words rang in his head. _ I wouldn't want her to be stuck inside all day._

"You're sorry? I'm not." Christine said, pursing her lips as she smirked mischievously. "These last few days have been awesome. I don't regret a single thing. And they'll understand. I'm sure they've all forgotten about that, now that _Chrisik_ is a thing!"

Erik groaned, his head falling back onto the leather seat. "Don't tell me you like it!"

"It's grown on me." Christine laughed. "It sounds really cool. I thought you liked it."

"Well, maybe I _don't_." Erik teased. "Maybe I think my name should have gone first."

"What? Like _Erstine_?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Christine and Nadir looked at one another, and grinned, bursting out into laughter as Erik watched them, confused.

"What? At least that way it's an actual name!" Erik argued, making Christine and Nadir fall against the couch, laughing harder.

Erik laughed nervously, watching Christine fall back against Nadir's arm, covering her face, while Nadir was struggling to hold back his laughter. It was a wonderful sight, to see the woman he loved, and the only man Erik could stand, enjoy themselves in his presence, laughing together. Erik had never felt so complete, so _real_. He felt so very real, so part of the world, that Erik could no longer hold himself in as well, and began to laugh loudly with them both, as Nadir joked that his name should have been in there somewhere, as he was quite often the third wheel, and Christine pushed herself away Nadir, positively giggling with mirth. Erik was very happy. He only wished he could make Christine as happy as she made him.

Didn't Nadir suggest something about a garden?

* * *

**Sorry guys! I posted this earlier, but it looks like it didn't go through! so I've had to delete this chapter and re upload it. Thanks for letting me know guys, I was wondering why there suddenly weren't any reviews!**

**EDIT: AND NOW I'VE LOST CHAPTER 19! PANIC!**

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been giving, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every one!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	49. Chapter 49

_**Billy Joel's A Matter of Trust**_

_Some love is just a lie of the heart_  
_The cold remains of what began with a passionate start_  
_And they may not want it to end_  
_But it will it's just a question of when_  
_I've lived long enough to have learned_  
_The closer you get to the fire the more you get burned_  
_But that won't happen to us_  
_Because it's always been a matter of trust_

_I know you're an emotional girl_  
_It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world_  
_I can't offer you proof_  
_But you're going to face a moment of truth_  
_It's hard when you're always afraid_  
_You just recover when another belief is betrayed_  
_So break my heart if you must_  
_It's a matter of trust_

* * *

Christine soon left Erik's apartment, though if she was honest, she didn't like the idea. It was getting harder and harder to separate herself from him and he was filling every inch of her life with his presence. She could still see him when she closed her eyes, she could still hear him in her head, even while Nadir tried talking to her as they rode the elevator. Erik hadn't liked watching her leave either. It had been quite painful for the both of them, she imagined. Erik had pinched her skirt, holding it between his fingers discretely when Christine returned to Erik's side after both she and Nadir had been laughing about their couple name. Erik didn't seem to think that Christine knew he was holding onto her, but she knew. She felt reassured by it, as though he was tethering her to him, afraid to watch her float away. He played with her hair, he stroked the hair on her arms, he placed his mask's cheek against hers, and it was like he needed reminding that she was still there, that she was real, that she was his.

When it had been time to leave, Erik had pulled her tighter against him, growling at Nadir, which make Christine smile, but she had placed her hand against his cheek, and kissed the other cheek slowly, letting her lips caress the smooth white mask. Erik had shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he turned his head away from her, and helped her to her feet, squeezing her hand as he did so. Christine was hoping he was happy, but she wasn't sure. She couldn't help but think that their relationship would progress much further without his mask, but she wasn't going to mention it. It would most likely only distress him, and she didn't want to make him upset. It was the furthest thing from her mind as Erik stroked her hair, and let the mask's lips grace her forehead with the lightest of kisses, leaning forward slightly to do so. He had created some space between them, leaning forward, and Christine crossed the boundary he had made between them, and leaned upwards to kiss him again on the cheek. Christine felt a rolling wave of warmth spread up her body as Erik's arms came around her body to hold her up against him, and Christine let her lips linger a little longer, making Erik sigh happily.

Nadir had cleared his throat, and Erik had given what Christine liked to imagine was a very dirty look, though he said nothing. She would have done the same if she hadn't become so aware of Erik's hands cupping her, in the small of her back, just barely above her hips. She began to lower herself back to the floor, making Erik's hands drift up her back, and she quickly began to grab her things, hoping Erik hadn't felt the way her body had shivered in response to his holding her. Erik had followed her about the room, always remaining one step behind her.

Erik had followed her out into the hallway, looking down at her hands, and Christine knew he wanted to hold them again. She let him, as they walked down the hallway and waited for the elevator. His mask oddly glowed, thanks to the lighting in the long, thin corridor, and it looked so striking against the red walls. She couldn't help but admire it. It was still such a strange thought, to think she loved a man whose face she had never seen, but his mask, while she knew it wasn't him, it seemed more and more like him every time she saw him. The mask seemed so serious, so focused, and it's intense gaze, whenever it focused on her, made her think that _Erik_ was concentrating on something, but she knew it wasn't his face, which just complicated things. From some angles, he looked angry, while from other angles, he looked so sad, as though he was about to be struck by something. She hoped she wasn't just imagining things.

Erik had kissed her hands, before she stepped into the elevator, and it had taken a lot of self control not to ask if she could spend the night again. It would have been cheeky to ask, she felt, but she was hoping that Erik would offer nonetheless. He didn't ask though. She was going to ask whether she would see him tomorrow, as he hadn't said a word, but she knew he would come for her. He always would come for her, no matter what was holding him back. When the elevator doors closed, Christine had leaned against the back of the lift, sighing as she adjusted the headband she had placed back on her head. Nadir had been talking away about something, but she hadn't heard him, too lost in her own thoughts, and Nadir had understood, staying silent for the rest of their walk to his limousine. They climbed in, and Christine stared around at the various boxes and bags, and remembering that they were her gifts. She stared down at her silver bracelet, holding the infinity loop between her fingers as she stroked it. She was still playing with it by the time they had reached the hotel, Nadir watching her cautiously, though with a smile as she finally looked up at him, smiling herself. They stepped out of the limousine together, shyly hugging each other as Meg poked her head out of the fire exit. Their hug was short, and so formal that Christine couldn't help but compare his hug with Erik's. Erik hugged her as whole he was afraid she would slip between his fingers. Nadir hugged her as if he knew she wouldn't.

She bid him goodnight, after he promised she would be spending the day with Erik tomorrow, and she had tried asking him what they would be doing, but Nadir shrugged. He didn't have a clue, he told her, Erik hadn't told him anything from what Christine could make out, but Nadir would be accompanying them, but from a distance. Christine didn't know what he meant by that, but she was grateful for Nadir's presence. She wasn't sure if she could trust herself alone with Erik, there were so many feelings coursing between them, they were like lightning, and Nadir was the rod that diverted the damage. Not that she thought Erik would hurt her, she was confident that their little incident earlier had just been blind panic, she knew it wasn't him that had hurt her, but she had hurt him.

Meg helped her carry the various boxes and bags up to her room, and Christine felt a strange reprieve from talking to someone other than Erik or Nadir. It was exhausting being in Erik's presence. He demanded so much of your attention, that the chance to just zone out and forget about the world for a moment was wonderful. Meg was happy to talk, positively glowing with excitement once she saw her bracelet, but she never saw the soup stain on her stomach. Christine had carried the boxes, and held them over her stomach, hiding the stain from view. She hoped that Meg hadn't noticed her wrists either. She didn't want Meg to get the wrong idea, and Christine was too tired to come up with a clever excuse. Meg began gossiping, something Christine had now come to expect from the bubbly blonde girl, going on about how there had been several invitations for her to come on talk shows, give interviews or something of that calibre. Christine wasn't interested. They weren't really interested in her, they just wanted to know as much about Erik as they could, and she wasn't going to give them that satisfaction!

Meg unlocked her door for her using her keycard, and helped Christine carry her things through, but she hadn't stuck around for long, looking very uncomfortable as Christine began to take her boots off. Christine had gone into the bathroom, turning on her shower and came right back out, but Meg was gone already. Christine was a little confused, but she reasoned that they must have been having a really busy day and that Meg just didn't have the time to hang around and chat. She grabbed a quick shower, the hot water easing her muscles, and Christine felt so at ease.

She spent the rest of her evening making her video. Erik had said it was alright to talk about the party, so long as she did not mention what had happened afterwards, and Christine had promised him that there was already plenty to talk about concerning the party, even without mentioning Carlotta. The video had been easy to make, she had always found it easy to just talk, it was getting her to shut up that was the parlor trick. She uploaded the video, checked her messages, feeling rather dull, now that she was finally alone. Christine felt Erik's absence, and she had stared at her bed, wishing she still had her Erik pillow. It was ridiculous, she chided herself, to get so sentimental over a pillow, but it had been comforting to her.

Slipping into bed that night, after sorting through her email and notifications on all of her social media pages, or at least as much as she could stand without getting a headache, she had brought her phone with her, and pressed a button to light up the screen, pulling one of the pillows close to her stomach. She stared at the picture of them both together, as she hugged the pillow closer to her as she rested the phone on top of another pillow, burying her face against the fresh cotton sheets. Just staring at that photo, now that she was alone, it was hard to describe how she felt. Erik had been so erratic earlier, but looking at the photo, she it seemed to banish those fears. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but it was some time after the screen had turned off.

The next morning, Christine had woken up to someone knocking on her door, and Christine had sat up, her hair spilling over her face as she looked around confused and still sleepy. She fell out of bed, her foot having been caught in her twisted sheets, and she landed face first into the blue carpet, her leg still on the bed, her arms sprawled out, and Erik's pillow flung across the room. She groaned, and quickly got to her feet, pulling the sheet away from her foot, and picked up the pillow she had thrown, carrying it to the door under one arm as she opened the door.

"Good morning, Miss Daae." Said a tall, older woman, in a sweet French accent. She peered over her glasses, her serious tone sounding very strange against her tight lipped smile. Her name badge read, 'Antoinette Giry, Hotel Manager' and she looked very impressive in her dark blue suit, her dark brown hair neatly arranged into a bun at the nape of her neck. She must have been related to Meg, with a last name like that. It must have been nice, working with family, Christine thought sadly.

Christine smiled sleepily though, hiding behind her door, as she didn't want the straight laced woman seeing her barely even dress. She was only wearing some very small yellow cotton shorts, and a pink tank top. She wasn't even wearing a bra, and she cautiously poked her head out from around the door.

"Hello. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Miss Daae. I am just here to inform you that Mr Destler is waiting downstairs for you. He says to dress lightly, and that he has prepared a picnic basket for you."

Christine perked up. "Picnic? Did he say where we were going?"

The woman smiled. "No, Miss Daae. He has asked me to escort you directly to him."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I don't know why he doesn't just wait for me to come down, I'll only be a few minutes." Christine laughed, opening the door wider as she turned back to walk back into her room, crossing her arms across her chest in a weird attempt at hiding her breasts from the woma. "I should have seen that coming. Of course he'd get the hotel manager. I'm sorry if you're really busy, this was probably the last thing you wanted to be doing. You don't have to escort me, I'm fine, honestly."

"It's no problem." Mrs Giry said, still standing outside her room, looking very confident and proud of her striking figure. "I don't mind catering to his whims. It is the least I could do after Mr Destler gave me this job."

Christine had been pulling her suitcase up onto her bed, so she could root through it, but she found herself standing upright, turning to look at Mrs Giry.

"He gave you your job? How'd he pull that off?" Christine asked curiously.

Mrs Giry smiled. "It was his decision. I don't think he would have trusted anyone else to run one of his hotels. I also oversee the other managers in his other hotels, so Mr Destler doesn't have to speak with them himself..."

Christine felt as though something had struck her. "_His_ hotel? As in, he _owns_ it?"

"Yes. He did, after all, design it."

Christine laughed, more shocked than anything, and her laugh sounded very disbelieving as she turned back to her suitcase. "I'm staying in a hotel he designed. I didn't even _know_ that."

How odd... No, how _right_. Of course it would have been his hotel. It was immaculate, absolutely stunning. No wonder she liked it. It was just so weird to think that she had been given _his_ hotel, out of all the hotels in New York. It was almost as if it had all been arranged. There was no possibility of that though, it was just a strange coincidence, she was sure of that.

"Forgive me, I was under the impression that you were aware. I'm sorry if it has upset you-"

"Not at all," Christine chimed pleasantly. "It's rather fitting. I feel better knowing that I'm staying somewhere has designed."

The woman smiled, pleased by something, and her whole face brightened up, revealing a whole new look. She wasn't so serious anymore, and she watched as Christine began rooting around in her suitcase.

"So, are you by any chance related to Meg? I couldn't help but notice you share the same last name." Christine asked, holding up various shorts and tops, debating what to wear.

"She is my daughter." Mrs Giry said, nodding. "You two are getting along, I believe."

"Yeah, she's great." Christine said, holding a black t-shirt to her chest, and then tossed it back into the suitcase. "She's a proper laugh. Good sense in fashion too."

"I'm glad to hear it. Some people find her quite forward."

"Nah, she's cool. It's nice to meet someone who talks more than I do." Christine joked, holding up a light blue denim shirt, as she started to root around for a skirt. "She wasn't very chatty last night though, she must have been really busy."

Christine almost didn't catch Mrs Gry's eyes narrowing slightly, and she wondered what the woman was thinking. There must have been something up, but she didn't think that asking would be very polite, so she let it slide as she pulled out a dark slate coloured skirt and some glittery sandals. She escaped into the bathroom, changing quickly, and put on some light make-up, throwing a few things into her bag before tossing it over one shoulder, following Mrs Giry's powerful strides as Christine tried to catch up with her once they left her room. They rode the elevator, and Christine nervously played with her silver bracelet, as she tried to imagine what Erik had planned for her. A picnic suggested that were not going to his apartment, but she honestly couldn't think of where he was taking her. A picnic suggested they were going outside, as in, not hiding away in a different building. She hoped that Erik wasn't doing anything too reckless, she didn't want him to take her somewhere where he would be uncomfortable, just to make her happy. She would have been happy with him anywhere, she told herself, but she was still excited to think that she would be seeing more of New York.

"Are you nervous?" Mrs Giry asked, a serious look returning to her graceful features.

"A little bit." Christine admitted, nodding.

Mrs Giry made a noise, perhaps to show she had heard her, but it didn't sound very impressed.

"I mean, where do _you_ think he's taking me? I'm worried he's going to take me to Central Park. I did point out how close we were to Central Park yesterday, but I don't want him taking me there cos there'll be plenty of people there and everyone will be staring at him and he won't be himself and I'll-"

"Miss Daae," Mrs Giry said, placing a hand on Christine's shoulder, a smile returning to her face. "I don't think you need to get so worked up. I think whatever he's planning, he knows what he's doing. I think he's happy to just be with you."

Christine took a breath as they arrived at the lobby. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." Mrs Giry said, removing her hand.

"It's Christine, by the way. You can call me Christine." Christine said, smiling as she held her hand out. "I hope we meet again. I'd like to talk to you about Erik."

"Oh?" Mrs Giry asked, raising an eyebrow. "About what, if I may ask?"

"Nothing too serious," Christine answered, lowering her hand. "You said that Erik managed to get this job, and that he trusted you. I just curious to know how you two know each other. It sounds like he really trusts you, but he's never mentioned you."

Mrs Giry smiled grimly, nodding to herself. "I'm not surprised. Mr Destler doesn't like to admit it, but he does need people from time to time. I looked after him, some years ago, when he was sick, and he saw fit to repay the favor with a well paying job and a secure future for my daughter."

Mrs Giry looked up. "It's a fairly uninteresting story, I must admit. I speak with him when I give him the hotel reports once every few months, and even then he doesn't talk to me with respect. Since you arrived however, I've seen him practically everyday, and always in a good mood."

"That's good." Christine said as they walked through the lobby. "Is he in a good mood now?"

"A very good mood. He's just as nervous as you." Mrs Giry said, stopping to smile as she held out her hand. "You better get along then, Christine. You enjoy your day."

"Thank you, I will." Christine said, taking Mrs Giry's hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"And you too." Mrs Giry replied.

Christine waved goodbye to her, and after noticing Meg she waved to her as well, and practically skipped to the fire exit, smoothing out her skirt as she slowed down before the door. She stepped out, shielding her eyes from the bright glare of the sun. She looked up at the limo, expecting to see Erik standing beside it, but he wasn't there. Christine frowned, wondering why Erik wasn't there, and was about to run down the steps and approach the limo, when two gloved hands appeared in front of her eyes and covered them lightly. The brushed against her eyelashes, and she closed her eyes, smiling as Erik still covered her eyes gently, barely even touching her.

"Guess ... Guess who?" Erik asked nervously, almost making it like sound like he wasn't sure she'd understand, and Christine laughed, placing her hands over his.

"Oh, I wonder who..." She teased, tilting her head to one side. "_Nadir, _possibly?"

Before Erik could answer, she span around, draping her arms around his neck, standing on her toes as she hugged him tightly. Erik chuckled, and took a deep, calming breath. He sounded very happy to see her, and Christine couldn't have been happier as Erik's arms held her confidently, his long arms reaching around her body very tightly, his hands pressed to her ribs as he encircled her entire body. It was like getting a hug from a bear, and Christine laughed at that analogy.

"Good morning, Erik." She said, twisting her head to plant a kiss on the mask's cheek.

"Good morning, Christine." Erik replied, squeezing her ribs again.

Christine pulled her head away from his, grinning as she asked, "So, what's this I hear about a picnic basket?"

"That is a surprise, Christine. Do not think you can weasel it out of me either." He teased lightly, raising a hand up to stroke her cheek with his thumb. "But you will like it, I promise. Nadir has even promised to leave us alone, he says he will still come to check on us, but for the day, we shall be all alone. Does that please you?"

"Yes!" Christine said, moving back to hug him again.

Erik gave a breath of relief, and stroked her hair. "Good."

"Let's _go, _then." Christine moaned, sounding very much like a child as she took his hand and tried to drag him after her towards the limousine. He was immovable though, not even a hint of restraint showed as he calmly watched her, but he soon got the idea and followed after her, squeezing her hand. They climbed into the limousine, Christine greeting Nadir warmly as she climbed in first, and she turned in her seat to face Erik, who was bowing his head to get in, holding a hand over the top of his bent mask to stop it from bumping against the car, his other hand still holding onto hers.

Erik turned to face her, reaching into his jacket pocket as he began to talk. "Christine, before we set off, I would insist that you wear this."

Erik brought his fist from out of his jacket, and held it out to her. Christine's eyes were drawn to his clenched hand, which slowly opened up to reveal a piece of red velvet material. Christine pursed her lips, and looked up at him.

"What is it?" She asked, watching as Erik picked up the material, pinched between two fingers.

"A blindfold."

Christine sat upright. She had been leaning in towards him, to get a better look at the material, but she could see it now that Erik was holding it up. It was a plain red velvet blindfold, with a black strap to secure it around her head.

"A blindfold? What do I need a blindfold for?" Christine asked, looking over at Nadir. He was smiling, rolling his eyes as a way of saying _'I know, I know'_.

Christine wasn't expecting this, but Nadir didn't seem too worried about the strange request. Did Erik know how weird this was, or was it just her?

"I do not want you to spoil your surprise." Erik answered lightheartedly, shrugging casually as if it was obvious.

"I don't need a blindfold Erik. We have tinted windows, and does it really matter?" Christine was becoming more and more confident that Erik was taking her to Central Park, and this added addition of a blindfold was making her even more nervous.

"It _does_ matter, Christine. You made me close my eyes when I was waiting for my present." Erik argued, who was now pleading her.

Christine sighed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, alright. I don't see the point, I can guess where we're going, but whatever." She said, pulling a cheeky smirk as she took it from him.

Erik tried to help, brushing the hair from around her face as she started to put it on, but his fingers just got in the way, and he pulled them away as Christine tugged the soft red velvet over her eyes. She wasn't sure what Erik was planning, or why he thought she would need a blindfold, but it didn't matter, she was just happy that he was in a playful mood. She tried picturing what Central Park would look like, trying to remember the pictures from the brochure, but she couldn't picture it. She could only imagine the two of them, walking hand in hand, down some path, though it still seemed impossible. How was Erik planning on handling this? He didn't seem _too_ nervous, he actually seemed quite confident of himself now. That must have meant they were going somewhere private.

Erik took her hands forcefully, and stroked her knuckles with his thumbs. She smiled, Erik had removed his gloves, and her skin tingled whenever his skin brushed against her. It was a strange sensation, his dry skin against hers, and she was highly aware of what it felt like, now that she could no longer see them. She wondered how he would react if she bought him some lotion. Wasn't aloe vera good for skin? She would have to think about it. At that moment, it didn't matter. Dry skin or not, she still liked the way she held her, as though she was the most precious thing in the world. She was, she realised. To Erik, she was precious, and he made her feel that way too. He was perfect, everything she had ever hoped for when it came to love. He practically worshipped the ground she walked on, and yet she felt the same way. So ... if they both felt the same way, or what Christine was hoping was the same way ...

Did that mean then that he ... loved her?

* * *

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	50. Chapter 50

_**Buckcherry's 'Lust'**_

_Under the covers and hiding from the world  
__Don't make this harder, it's just another girl.  
__Circumstances left you holding out your hand, holding out your hand, holding out.  
__This burning secret, it occupies your world,  
__In every waking moment you wanna make it worth  
__Circumstances left you holding out your hand, holding out your hand, holding out.__  
_

_The information that you wanted,_  
_I bet you wish you never started.  
__Lust, lust, burning the trust when  
__You're deeper in and once's not enough.  
L__ust, lust, it's still much and_

_All this is torture._

* * *

Erik had done a bad thing.

He knew it was wrong, and he felt shame for doing such a despicable thing, but the overwhelming urge to protect Christine was something he could not ignore. It was a disgusting act of loneliness and it was beastly of him to do it, but he was sure that it had to be done. He was not suspicious of Christine, but he was guilty of suspecting his enemies. Namely, Carlotta, but Raoul had now made the list since what had occurred that evening. He had not told Nadir, he knew he would accuse him of vile thoughts and evil deeds, but Erik was solemnly sworn to not to abuse what he was about to watch. He had installed a camera in Christine's room. Not himself, of course, that was impossible, but he had what some would call a henchman, though really it was just someone who owed him a debt. Erik could bend anyone to his will, and he had received firm assurances that the job would be done to his precise demands, and a sworn oath that he would tell no-one of what he had done. Erik trusted him, but he could still hear the disgusted tone of his voice as they spoke on the phone, and Erik felt appalled with himself, loathing himself with intense hatred for having to do such a thing, but he needed to make sure that if were any more calls from either Carlotta or Raoul, then Erik knew about it and could react accordingly. To be safe, he had made sure that any calls made through the hotel phone be approved by him first, but Christine still had her phone. He had requested that the camera be placed above the large gold framed mirror that was hung up on the bathroom wall, on one side of Christine's bed, with the hotel windows on the other side. He had it arranged to be installed while they went out that very afternoon, but he had forgotten all about until shortly after Christine had left.

All night, he had stayed in the room, sitting cross-legged on his bed, staring up at the newly hung crystals. He hadn't dared to look towards his computer screen. It was base, degrading for him to even have it, but it was so comforting to hear her voice when she got back that his eyes had instantly flicked to the screen. She had taken a shower, from what he could hear, as the position of the camera only showed her bed, with a set of drawers beside it, with the hotel phone on top, and the windows directly opposite, the blinds closed. She soon appeared in front of the camera though, and Erik had to quickly look away once he realized she had covered herself with only a towel, her hair dripping down her back as she knelt down to rummage through one of her suitcases for something. She disappeared again, and Erik berated himself for even setting such a thing up. Christine would be disgusted if she ever found out, but he never intended to use the camera to perve on her. He only wanted to watch her, without the distraction of having Christine watch him. He could relax, and not have to worry about what she thought of his actions, or have to act extra careful around her. It was very appealing, he admitted, as Christine reappeared, wearing yellow cotton shorts and a black T-shirt with some heavy metal band on the front. Despite his promise not to be so lewd, he couldn't help but enjoy the sight of her shapely, perfect legs.

He watched as Christine started making her video, after she had tied her hair up in a french braid, and was looking very pleased as she spoke of the party, holding the camera out from her, aiming the lens towards her face. She had spoken of their adventure that morning as well, blushing as she recounted the morning's events. She didn't stay long on that topic though, and began talking about all of the messages she had been receiving, and started pointing out all of the posts and mentions she had found on various websites and newspapers. She was flattered, she said, that people would be so interested in them, but there was nothing to 'dish', as she said. They were taking things slowly, but there had been something in Christine's face that hinted that it wasn't what she was thinking, however. It was interesting to watch, Christine sometimes made mistakes, stumbling over words, making her laugh before she had to remake the shot. She spent the rest of the evening editing her video on her laptop, lying on the bed, and generally spent the whole time glued to her screen. It made Erik smile, to think that he was watching her on the screen, while she was watching another screen. Erik hadn't paid that much attention after that, he had removed his mask and was concentrating on composing, scribbling his ideas down on the multiple music sheets he brought from his music room. He was trying to write something for Christine, but each attempt was awful, none of the songs even compared to the splendor of Christine. She was fairly quiet, occasionally laughing at something on her screen, making Erik look up at his screen, smiling serenely to himself before turning back to his music.

Erik hadn't even noticed Christine getting up to put her laptop away, he had been too lost in the score he was composing. He had found it, Christine's song. It was a lullaby, _her_ lullaby. It was her, in song form, each lilting lift was her, each note echoing her memory in his head. She danced before him, in his mind, smiling as she looked at him, listening to his music with awe and admiration. She would love it, wouldn't she? He would have to play it for her, on his piano, though he did wonder if Christine would enjoy it more on the violin. He looked up at her, scratching his chin, and noticed she was not on the bed. His eyes were glued to the screen, until the lights turned off, and Christine reappeared beside her bed. She pulled off the black shirt, and Erik could see everything now, despite the low light. She clambered onto her bed, running a hand through her hair as she grabbed one of the pillows to hold against her stomach. Erik's heart fluttered as she clutched the pillow tightly, and she raised her hand to reveal her phone. She pressed some button, and her phone lit up. Erik had to get off the bed to take a closer look. He realized that Christine was staring at their photo, and Erik struggled to breath, as Christine shuffled about in her bed, resting the phone on its side on the pillow opposite her, so she could look at it while resting on _her_ side. Her back was turned to him, so she was facing the windows, and she still held the pillow close to her, breathing deeply as she rubbed a thumb over one corner of the pillow. Erik could see her do it, just over her left shoulder. His eyes traced the outline of Christine's form underneath the sheets, and had to turn away before he started having any depraved, evil thoughts.

He couldn't watch her, not like this. This was wrong, it was immoral. Christine was an angel, who didn't need devils lechering over her. His carnal urges were threatening to take him, and he had switched the screen off. He was fiendish, a true monster for spying on her, but he could not tear himself away. It was only curiosity, he told himself. He wanted to make sure she was safe, he convinced himself. No-one would know, he thought. Erik sighed, and had switched the screen back on, giving in to his inner desires, and had periodically watched Christine sleep, trying to keep his most sinful thoughts at bay by distracting himself with plans for the next day. He had the perfect idea, but it needed a few finished touches, in order to amaze and surprise Christine. A thought had crossed his mind, another sinful pleasure, but to Christine, it would just look playful. He had rushed around his apartment, searching for the right materials, thread and the like, to create for her a blindfold. It would not just be any blindfold however. Erik had decided to make it from the same material that lined the inside of his mask. It was a deep red velvet, and Erik spent several attempts on cutting the fabric, sewing the pieces together. He did not want to admit how excited he was with the thought of Christine wearing it. He had also toyed with the idea of making himself a new mask. He had sketched out a few ideas, but it still meant that Christine would be seeing more of him. He wondered what she would say about his designs for another mask for her. She would probably laugh, or worse. He hesitated when it came to the lower part of the mask. Would Christine want to see his lips? They were not handsome, and there was no way of covering the distortion she would see there. But the idea of being able to kiss her hair, to touch her fingers to his raw lips, was the thought that consumed him the entire night. Would Christine treat him any differently? Would she stop kissing him if she thought that he would try to kiss her back? Did she think she was safe when he had his mask on? Would she even think to give him ... for him to have ... if he was good, would she give him a kiss?

It was too scary to think about, and he had hidden his designs in shame. It was a cruel torture, to fantasize about her lips against his, and he was wrong to even wish for it. He did not deserve anything from her, but she gave him so many endless pleasures.

The next morning, he had barely even been able to look Nadir in the eyes. He had been in his music room, trying to play Christine's lullaby when Nadir had wandered in, asking him what the plan was. Erik had told him, but kept his mask turned away from his friend. Erik would feel immense guilt and shame if he had to look into his eyes, and Erik couldn't risk Nadir getting suspicious of him. He knew what vile words and terrible insults Nadir would throw at him, but Erik refused to feel guilty. He had not done anything wrong in watching over her. He just couldn't bear the idea of being separated from her, it made him feel better to know he could still watch over her when she was no longer by his side. He had snuck into his room before they left, to kiss the computer screen as he watched Christine still sleeping, her body twisted about in her sheets.

The ride over to the Winchester had made Erik more nervous, the blindfold tucked away in his pocket starting to burn a hole right into his chest. He would have to watch himself around Christine, he didn't want to frighten her away, but would she think him strange for suggesting a blindfold? Nadir had noticed something was up by that point, as Erik had been unusually quiet, and he asked what was on his mind. Erik had nearly panicked, but regained a sense of calm as he admitted that he was nervous about making Christine wear a blindfold.

"Oh, I don't think that's anything to be nervous about, Erik." Nadir had said, comfortingly, but Erik still didn't feel reassured. He had done many terrible things, but he never felt such shame and disgrace at any of those deeds."I think it would make a great surprise for when she takes it off."

They had turned up at the Winchester, and Antoinette had been waiting for them. She watched as Erik got out, and waited with a tightly stretched, disapproving smile on her face. She was carrying a large black folder, no doubt filled with boring reports or unimaginative forms he would have to fill out. He was right, and after she handed him a pen, he had scribbled his name wherever it needed signing, without bothering to read it. Antoinette had noticed, commenting that his handwriting looked like a child's, and he had ignored her at first, hoping she would leave, but she still lingered. Trying not to lose his temper, he had tried to politely ask her to retrieve Christine, as he knew she would still be asleep, he didn't want to have to wait for her again, and Antoinette had lifted her eyebrows in surprise to his polite manner. She did as he asked, and Erik had impishly decided to hide behind the fire exit, much to Nadir's embarrassment as he greeted Antoinette before she had to leave. It had been on impulse, to see if he could surprise her, a last minute thought that had pleased him very much. He wasn't sure what had gotten into him, but he felt more daring than before.

Christine stepped out, and Erik had placed his hands over her eyes, his whole body trembling as unwelcome thoughts of Christine in her towel came to mind. He hadn't meant to sound so unsure, he had tried joking with her, but it had come out all wrong. Christine didn't seem to notice though, and played along, being just as cheeky as him, spinning in her spot to hug him tightly. Erik had let a sigh slip out, her body pressed to him had only made him think of the way she had been lying in bed, and he knew that installing the camera had been a bad idea. He would have it removed, he decided. It had turned into Pandora's box.

Giving her the blindfold had been exasperating. He had hidden his concerns quite well, it was easy to do when he saw Christine's eager, innocent gaze. He had to, for her sake. He would not mention the camera, he would not even let her see what it had done to him, he wouldn't even think of it in front of her. She had given in to his request, however, and took the blindfold from him. He had tried to help, but he was only getting in the way. She pulled it over her face, sighing to herself as she reluctantly began to smile, saying that she could already guess where they were going. Erik swiftly stared at Nadir, who shrugged. How could Christine have known where he was taking her? He himself hadn't decided until a few hours beforehand. Was she being serious?

Erik tore off his gloves, taking her hands, and Christine laughed, her head turning about, as though she was searching for something. She stopped though, the smile gone, and her lips parted, forming a small 'o'. Erik had watched those lips with great interest, and he couldn't help but think of the designs he had stuffed into his desk. Would they please her? If he were to show them to her, would she show interest in it?

For the rest of the journey, Christine had gone on about her video, asking him if he had watched it. He had, despite having already watched her make the video, and he told her that he had enjoyed it. Well, he had enjoyed watching her, not particularly what she had been talking about. The party hadn't impressed him very much, but Christine, it seemed, had enjoyed it, admitting that she felt proud being on Erik's arm, and that she finally felt beautiful. She had spoken of her day spent with him, only choosing to talk about the various shops they had visited, and she had proudly shown off her silver bracelet, an intimate smile on her face as she rubbed it between her fingers. Erik was satisfied that his trinket pleased her, and he was happy to see it again on her wrist today. Her wrists looked much better this morning, they had returned to the cool shade of white that was Christine's skin tone. He massaged them, asking if they still hurt. She said no, smiling as she carefully searched for his fingers, but Erik felt remorse for his actions.

Erik could only see all of the terrible things he had done to her, stuff that no-one would forgive, that he didn't even see the good things he had done for her. To Erik, he was nothing but a bad omen, and terrible force of nature that threatened to rip Christine apart. Erik was too selfish to give her up though, and he hoped, that Christine would absolve him of his transgressions.

They finally arrived, and Erik could barely contain his excitement as the limo turned down an empty road, trees on either side of the limo, along the pavement, and Christine giggled as Erik kept squeezing her fingers.

"Erik! Are we there? I don't hear anything!" She said, turning her head about. "Can I take this off yet?"

"Just another minute, Christine. I need to escort you inside, and you must hold onto me." Erik said, as the limo came to a stop.

Nadir got out first, sniffing as he looked around. Erik held onto Christine's fingertips, and carefully began to back out of the car, kneeling on the seat as he shuffled back, slowly pulling Christine after him. He held her arm with one hand, and gently pressed down on her head so she would not bump it. Christine began twisting her head about, and gripped his hand tighter than before.

"Erik, what's going on? I don't hear anything. Are we ... Are we at Central Park?"

Erik laughed, as Nadir smirked as well. "I think you would prefer this so much more."

"Well then, I'll let our gracious host know that we have arrived. Erik, I think you should take her in before she tears off her blindfold." Nadir said, gesturing to the large, white, domed building they were standing before. "I'll come visit you later."

Christine stepped a little closer to Erik, her sandals brushing through the gravel driveway they had pulled up on, and Erik looked around. There were in a secluded area, standing before the Enid A. Haupt conservatory. Erik had chosen it, as it was the closest to privacy that he could find, and after researching it online, he knew it was perfect for Christine. It was a Victorian style glasshouse, with hundreds of assorted plants, and from the pictures, it looked rather like a rainforest. There were hanging plants, different and exotic flowers, a large, open pond, and there were even different sections of the pavilion, so Christine could never get bored with the same view.

"Yes, Thank you." Erik answered, and Nadir stepped back into the limousine, leaving Erik and Christine alone. "I ... I hope this will please you. I have arranged a few treats for you, and they _should_ be ready by now."

Christine smiled blindly, and tilted her head to one side in an endearing way. "Erik, I'll love it no matter what it is. But please, when I can I look? This is horrible!"

Erik chuckled, and dared to tap her on her nose, making Christine giggle again. "Not until I say. And now you can understand why I didn't want to close my eyes yesterday."

Christine sighed mockingly, and Erik began guiding her towards the entrance of the conservatory, his back turned to the two large french windows, his attention entirely on Christine. She was holding her breath, unsure of herself as she took careful steps forward. Erik went slowly, to make sure she did not hurt herself, and he kissed her fingers as they stood before the doors. He let them go to open them, and turned back to see Christine's hands hovering in the air, waiting for him to take them again.

"_Now_?" She asked impatiently.

"Not yet, Christine." Erik laughed, and guided her into the open space.

Before them, was a single path that split into two, and between the two paths, lining the edges were dozens of flowers, all surrounding a large clearing of grass. There was plenty to explore, trees and bushes and all sorts of hidden treats were waiting for Christine to discover them. It was paradise, a true heaven, but it was incomplete without Erik's finishing touches. On the grass, there was a blanket laid out for them to recline on, with a few throw pillows, and a picnic basket prepared for them. It was, in fact, the same basket he had arranged for Christine when they had been on the yacht, but now there was also fresh milk, bread and various fruits that Erik had arranged to be included. Erik had also used one of his many debts to have a peacock strutting around, taken from the nearest zoo, which he thought Christine would be delighted to see. There was also a speaker system in place, that played jungle noises, on top of bird calls and the sound of a babbling brook. It was all perfect.

"Erik, what just happened? What am I hearing?" Christine asked, pulling her hands away to pull away her blindfold.

"No!" Erik jumped forward and pressed his fingertips to her covered eyes. "Please, let me."

Christine nodded, and Erik slowly walked around her, to stand behind her back. He stood close to her, lowering his head to place it beside hers, as he carefully tugged the velvet away from her face. She still had her eyes closed, her eyelashes beating against her cheeks as she slowly opened them. Her eyes took a moment to focus, blinking several times as she looked around. She saw the blanket on the grass, the palm trees and the hanging vines, the peacock and the stone pond, and her lips trembled.

"Well?" Erik asked impatiently. He realized he had sounded very gruff, and tried again. "Do you ... Like it?"

Christine's eyes widened as they darted about. She held her hands to her mouth as she took a few steps forward.

"Erik, this is ... It's so beautiful." She whispered softly, and she had to suck on her lips to stop them from quivering. "Oh god, Erik, _this is incredible_!"

She turned in her place, looking as though she had run a marathon as she breathlessly thanked him over and over again. Her wide blue eyes began to fill with tears, and she cried as she launched herself into Erik's arms, taking Erik's mask between her hands, and kissed him forcefully on the mask's lips. She was holding him by the mask's cheeks, her lips pressed against the molded, immovable lips, closing her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks. Erik had frozen, his hands hovering in the empty air around her body. Christine was standing on the very tips of her toes, wobbling in place, and Erik's hands flew to her hips, where he held her steady. In his mask, he was beyond panicking. He was panting heavily as he intensely watched Christine's face so close to his. This wasn't like her other kisses, where she had lingered for only a second, this was deeper than that. She pulled away, turning red as she lowered herself down, her hands sliding down his chest.

Erik didn't know what to do, he had been fantasizing of Christine's lips for hours, but this was far worse. This was punishment. This was a reminder of things he could never have, and the reasons why. But ... She had kissed his mask as though she expected his lips to be there. As though she thought there would nothing between her lips and his. As if she wanted to _kiss_ him.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been giving, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every one!**

**Please leave do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	51. Chapter 51

**_Kele Le Roc's 'My Love'_**

_And I know you've only known me  
__For a short time__  
_

_Sometimes life's history_  
_Ain't what its made up to be yeah yeah_

_Some people spend their time_  
_Running away from what's right_  
_Sure don't wanna run, I sure don't wanna run from you yea yea_  
_Here is what I could do..._

_My love, so good_  
_My love, just for you, oh, my love_

_See everything baby_  
_Fits into place_  
_To think it over_  
_I'll give you your space_  
_When the time is right_  
_Come on around_  
_I ain't going nowhere_  
_Cause I know what I've found, thinking_

_Some people spend their time_  
_Running away from what's right_  
_Sure don't wanna run, I sure don't wanna run from you_

* * *

Christine had never seen such a wondrous sight before. It was dazzling to behold, there was so many things to look at, and Christine's heart had been thumping so loudly in her ears that she had felt dizzy. Erik had brought her to what looked like a conservatory, or a Victorian greenhouse, and she felt so out of place, standing beneath palm fronds, watching a peacock proudly parade about, and listening to what sounded like crickets chirruping. There were two trees on either side of them, growing into each other, creating an archway over their heads. It was as though Erik had transported her to an entirely new world, a new planet, made just for her. It was perfect, all of it was, and it made her happy to see such a beautiful sight. It was like Heaven, or Eden, and they were the only two people in the world. It made her think of the fragile photos that her father had saved of her mother. He would get them out on occasion, his shaking hands passing her the bent, crinkled pictures. Her mother was in all of them, standing before their house in Sweden, or walking through the forest that they had visited often together. She had been beautiful, long blonde hair that was very close to white that fell in ringlets like her own. It made Christine feel so happy to think she looked like her mother, and it brought a crippled happiness to her father, who loved her dearly, but missed his wife. Their little cottage had looked very similar to what Christine was seeing now, just an overwhelming parade of greenery, plants of all kinds, and Christine couldn't help but cry.

"_We lived in a cottage that had ivy growing all around the front door, hanging over it like a curtain, hiding it from view_." Her father would say, a rehearsed speech that came from having to tell the story of the home he had bought for his beloved Lottie. "_We would sweep the ivy aside when we entered the house. People often couldn't find the door, and your mother and I would laugh from our bedroom window. Our garden was the most beautiful place on earth. Your mother loved it so much. She grew all sorts of wildflowers, roses, tulips. Do you remember the little archway you had to pass under? You used to sit under there with your mother. She was so happy before she left us."_

And the _smell_. A dozen different fragrances hit her, each powerful and alluring, and they brought memories of her father, and what little memory she had of her mother, to mind. Memories of open blue skies and green earth beneath her. She could feel an overpowering sense of love and serenity wash over her, and it was all because of Erik.

No other man had done something like this for her. No-one had ever given her a garden. No man would ever treat her this way, not even Raoul had come close to this scale. Before, men had always taken her for walks along the Thames, or fancy meals in nice restaurants, but this... _This_ was a grand romantic gesture. It was all so grandiose and splendid, Christine could imagine no other place she would rather be. It made Christine breathless as she came to comprehend the extent of Erik's feelings for her. There was no denying it now, and it made Christine feel so foolish for not seeing it before.

_He loves me._ Christine had thought, turning in her place to look at Erik, who was watching her. _He must love me! And I love him!_

She had practically attacked him from the way she had taken his mask between her clammy hands and kissed him passionately on the lips. He froze, becoming completely stiff as she raised herself up and pressed herself against him. It had been instinct: act first, think later, and it had taken her a second to realize what she was doing. She was kissing Erik's mask, without hesitation, and she did not even feel stupid for doing it. Kissing the mask's lips had felt so natural, as though it was the right thing to do, and she couldn't stop herself. Her lips were so warm, pressing against the mask's cold, unmoving lips, and she had closed her eyes, feeling tears trickle down her cheeks and seep onto his mask. Her lips slid effortlessly over his, the plastic only making it easier for Christine's lip gloss to slide about, and Christine had, in the back of her mind, wished for Erik to take hold of her hair, to hold her steady, but he had only held her hips. She could feel his fingers pressing into her soft hips, and he could hear him breathing heavily beneath the mask, sounding very unsure and scared.

She had pulled away, resisting the urge to lick her lips, her hands pressed to Erik's chest as she slid down back onto her feet, her heart beating wildly against her chest, like a bird trying to break free of its cage. She had been trying to hide how out of breath she was. She had heard somewhere that passionate kissing actually burned off calories. Cadswollop, she had thought before, but now, she could understand.

Erik's jittery hands had slipped up her back, his skin catching on her denim shirt, until they came to rest on her shoulders. They were trembling, and Christine could hear his frantic breath hitting the inside of the mask. He was no longer looking at her, instead staring off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts. Christine's lips twitched into a smile, as she waited for him to return to her. She didn't have to wait long, as Erik looked down at her, rubbing his thumbs against her cheeks to brush away the remaining tears, and said in barely a whisper,

"P-please don't cry anymore. It hurts me to see you this way."

"But I'm happy," Christine had laughed, sniffling. "This is the most exquisite gift you could have given me."

"It is nothing, compared to you." He said confidently, throwing his hand out to gesture towards the open scene, looking around him. "All of this, will never compare to you. You are, without doubt, the single most enchanting creature here."

Christine laughed again, filled with merriment as she answered, "I don't know about that, I think I saw a peacock a moment ago, and they're _really_ beautiful."

Erik sharply looked at her. "If I say you are the beautiful creature here, then you are and I will _not_ hear of any other _imposters_."

"Imposters?" Christine asked, surprised by Erik's tone. It had been quite possessive and displeased. "I don't think you can call a bird an _imposter_..."

"Nonetheless, I will not hear another word about it." Erik said, and took her hand to wrap it around his arm. He asked lightly, "Now, which would you like to do? Take a walk, or have a lie on the grass?"

Christine rolled her eyes, smiling. "I think a walk would be grand."

Erik laughed triumphantly under his breath, happily pulling her a little closer to him, and together they slowly walked down the left path, heading towards the low hanging vines and exotic flowers. Erik was very proud, Christine could tell, but he stayed silent as he guided her around the various sections, raising his free hand to brush aside the vines that threatened to hit his mask. They took their time, admiring the flora in silence. Whenever Christine's eyes lingered a little longer on a particular flower or plant, Erik would draw her closer, and sit her down on the stone wall that encompassed the entire building, separating the path from the shrubs. It was easy to perch upon, the little wall didn't even reach her knees, and it had beautiful carvings engraved on it. Christine would tuck her feet beneath her, but Erik's long, gangly legs looked awkward as he sat opposite her, watching her as she looked around. She'd stroke some of the petals with her thumb, smiling. Christine was happy, _so_ happy, just living in a dream as Erik took her other hand and watched her. After a few minutes, they would get up again, and continue walking, arm in arm. Erik still wasn't saying anything and Christine chose to stay silent too. She was thinking about how best to admit her feelings to him. It was the only logical step, and he needed to know. He needed to know that his feelings were shared, that they were mutual, but Nadir's words from the music awards made her hesitate.

'_He would probably reject your interest and think you were teasing him._'

Would Erik really do that? He wouldn't spurn her, would he? He was so alone, why would he torture himself like that?

_Haven't you been torturing him though? You think these kisses and cuddles are making things better? No wonder he's so confused around you. You need to tell him how you feel and you need to tell him now._

Christine looked up at Erik. He had always been quite tall, compared to her, but he seemed to tower over her now. He was talking about when the conservatory had been built, and she learned that they were at the New York botanical gardens, near Central Park. Christine smiled, and cuddled his arm, rubbing his cheeks against his sleeve, making him look down at her.

_How do I tell him without him thinking that I'm trying to tease him?_

"...Christine?"

Christine looked up. Erik's mask was facing her directly. They had stopped walking now, and Erik was gripping her hand very tightly. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking to myself, what did you say?"

"I ... I wanted to ask..." He looked away, back towards the entrance. "...Do you want to go lie on the grass now? The picnic I have supplied for us is the same as the one on the yacht."

"Really?"

Erik nodded, sighing unhappily to himself.

"Yes, I'd like that." Christine said quietly. Why did he sound so unhappy? Had he asked her something else when she had misheard?

Erik escorted her back to the entrance, his head drooping slightly, and after stepping lightly over the plants that separated the path and the grass, he gently pulled her over, holding her hands carefully. She stepped over the plants, and together they kneeled on the soft blue blanket, surrounded by a semi circle of cushions. Erik was facing her, fidgeting in his seat, while Christine watched him, smiling. She was hoping that her calm attitude would ease Erik's tension, but he just seemed extremely nervous now. He was tapping his fingers on hers, as he began looking about, towards the blanket they were resting on, at the picnic basket, until he looked up at her, squeezing her fingers.

"Christine... That kiss..." He paused, expecting Christine to interrupt him, but she didn't. "Do you... Did you do that on purpose?"

Christine smiled. "It was. You don't think it was by accident, do you?"

"No, I don't, it's just..." He looked down into his lap. "Have you grown accustomed to this mask?"

Christine reached out with her arms in a wide embrace and pulled him to her, her arms encompassing his entire body as she held him tightly, but lovingly. She reached up with her right hand and held his head against hers as he numbly let her hold him. "It doesn't matter to me. It's not you." She laughed. "From an objective point of view, I think it's ... Well, it's Michelangelo's 'David', isn't it? But it isn't _you_."

Erik pulled away, and Christine frowned as he returned to kneeling before her, his hands curled into fists. His voice was cold as he said, "So what, Christine? You wish to see _beneath_ the mask-"

"No." Christine said flatly, and stopped Erik before he could say another word. "I _wish_ I knew what you were thinking. I can't tell and it frustrates me, but I have no desire to remove your mask. When you're ready, we can talk about it, but until then, I will wait." Christine said. Was now the right time?

Erik was staring at her, his hands relaxing into a comfortable grip. He started tapping his fingers with his right hand on his knee, as though he was playing the piano. Christine smiled, and opened her mouth to say something, but Erik interrupted her.

"I know you will. You are so kind." Erik said, in a warm tone that made Christine feel very happy, enough to make her blush.

"Erik, I-"

"Christine, wait. I need to say this. It has been on my mind all morning, and this isn't the conversation I had been hoping for, so please, allow me to express myself."

"Yes, Erik." She said, fidgeting in her seat so she could sit straighter, a warm smile on her face.

"You see, Christine, I have been thinking about this mask. I have been considering whether or not to wear a different mask-" Christine brightened immediately, and Erik, having noticed, carried on with more gusto, "-and I was wondering how you would react. Would you ... Prefer me in another mask?"

Christine pursed her lips. "It would depend on the mask. What were you thinking?"

"I... I don't know." Erik said blankly. "I would like for you to see my eyes."

"_Oh_, what colour are they?" She asked excitedly, clapping her hands together. She had been wondering, but now she could find out. He seemed in a good enough mood to talk about his face.

"Blue and white. They're both kind of pale." He whispered, tilting his head to the right as he stared at the pillows beside them.

"Oh." Christine said, smiling. Did Erik really have to describe his entire eye? "Well, yes, I like that idea."

"I'm not sure about the rest." Erik said, looking back up at her. "I will take some time to decide."

"Well, whatever you come up with, I'll love it." She said, taking his hands. She hoped he understood how much she meant those words.

Erik reached up with one hand, Christine's hand drifted down to rest at his elbow as he cupped her cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Erik." She said, closing her eyes as she smiled. His hand was quite rough against her cheek, but it was him, as it would always be.

Christine opened her eyes. She smiled. "Erik, I-"

"Would you like to have something to eat? I'm sure you must be famished." Erik interrupted abruptly, gesturing to the open picnic basket.

Christine turned her head to look behind her, twisting her body so she could see it better. She could see a number of different snacks for her. She could even see the unusually large box of Cap'n Crunch. She grinned, turning back to look at Erik.

"No, Erik, I'm fine, but-"

"Then, would you like to lie down?" Erik asked, removing his hand from her hair, watching as a few loose ringlets slipped through his fingers. "You would be far more comfortable, the grass is soft, and we can hold hands-"

"Wouldn't you want to hold me?" Christine asked, momentarily stumped. Erik began to splutter, laughing nervously between quick breaths, and Christine offered, "Or I could hold you?"

Erik stopped, holding his breath. "I... I... _Would you_?"

"Yes." Christine laughed. "I like it when you hold me in your arms, but if you want to be held I'll gladly do it."

Erik laughed as well, sounding very excited. "Yes, Yes I would." He paused, his head starting to droop, saying sadly, "But I _shouldn't_."

"Why not?" Christine asked seriously, forgetting about herself for a second. "There's nothing wrong with me holding you. I know you liked it when I held you before, it's just we'll be lying down."

"But Christine," He began to protest. "It wouldn't be appropriate. For us to be ... Holding each other. It is too intimate."

Christine balked. "Too intimate? Just because we're lying down?"

"Yes. I would much prefer just to hold hands." He answered. He sounded very sure of himself.

"So we can't snuggle? At all?" She asked, frowning.

"I... No, we can't. Christine, please, just lie down." Erik sighed, exasperated, holding his hand out to gesture to the blanket.

"Okay, okay, _fine_." Christine murmured, lowering herself down onto the blanket, lying on her back, placing her head upon the various cushions. She crossed her arms as she pouted, moving her legs so her ankles were crossed as well.

Erik followed after her, lowering himself down as he lay on his side, propping his head up on his clenched fist, facing her. She was pouting still, but when her eyes darted to his reclining figure, it slowly turned into a defeated grin. Erik took her left hand with his free one, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb as he teased her fingers with his, tickling them. She turned her head to look at him.

"This is nice." She said. "It's so warm. Would you hate me if I took a nap?" She joked, laughing.

"Did you not sleep well?" Erik asked her seriously.

"I slept very well." Christine said smiling. She had fallen asleep with the image of her phone's wallpaper in her head, holding Erik's pillow. It was hard not to sleep well. "Did you?"

"No. I ... I don't sleep," He answered hesitantly, as though she would be angry. "I told you-"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Not when I'm with you."

"So what did you do last night?"

Erik didn't say anything at first. "I was writing you a song."

Christine smiled widely. "A _song_? _Really_? What's it called?"

Erik shrugged. "'_Christine's lullaby_'."

"Lullaby? I have a lullaby?"

"Yes," Erik laughed, relieved as he turned to lie on his back. He stared up at the glass ceiling, and said, "It's all wrong though. It's not good enough. I have too many possibilities in my head, and they are all fighting to be this song."

"So it's not ready?" Christine asked, curling up onto her side as she moved to face him. She tucked her arms close to her chest, holding her left hand, wishing it was his hand, her knees slightly bent, and rested her cheek on the soft blanket.

"No, yet." Erik said slowly, noticing her new position, and mimicked her, copying her exact position. "But it will be soon. It'll be on the piano, and so far it's eighteen minutes but-"

Christine smiled, giggling as Erik began to go on about his work towards creating her song. It all sounded so confusing, he was using terms that she didn't understand, but he began sounding out different tunes, humming them so she could get a better idea, but there were so many conflicting tunes that it had made Christine wonder how he was going to put it all into one song. She was happy to listen to him, he sounded so content, as he tried to explain the different songs, and he wondered aloud whether he ought to just make multiple songs, which had made Christine laugh sleepily, as the sunlight warmed her body. She felt very safe. Erik took her hand, letting them rest against the blanket, and Christine sighed happily, closing her eyes. It was so easy to love him when he treated her this way. She wanted to tell him, but she couldn't resist giving in to Erik's little demands, and lying close to him had been a very good idea. She would just have to tell him later, she thought drowsily. They had the rest of their lives after all, there was no need to rush.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every one!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	52. Chapter 52

**_The Four Aces' 'Love is A Many Splendored Thing'_**

_Love is a many splendored thing_  
_It's the April rose_  
_That only grows in the early spring_  
_Love is nature's way of giving_  
_A reason to be living_  
_The golden crown that makes a man a king_

_Once on a high and windy hill_  
_In the morning mist_  
_Two lovers kissed_  
_And the world stood still_  
_Then your fingers touched_  
_My silent heart and taught it how to sing_  
_Yes, true love's_  
_A many splendored thing_

_Once on a high and windy hill_  
_In the morning mist_  
_Two lovers kissed_  
_And the world stood still_  
_Then your fingers touched_  
_My silent heart and taught it how to sing_  
_Yes, true love's_  
_A many splendored thing_

* * *

Nadir had seen many things in his life, but he had never expected to stumble upon the sight that now greeted him as he stood in the entrance of the conservatory. Erik and Christine were lying on a blanket that had been laid out upon some grass, sleeping it seemed, bathed in the glowing sight that seeped through the foliage over them, dozens of thin dappled sun beams hitting their resting forms. It was such a pleasant sight that Nadir could not help but creep forward to get a closer look. It was dangerous, Nadir knew, as to wake a sleeping Erik would only bring a foul temper and fouler actions. Nadir had learned that the hard way. Erik, when he did sleep, appeared to be dead, and several times, Nadir had walked into Erik's cell to think he was dead. It always looked as though he was not breathing, his chest never moving, and his maskless face, twisted as it was, never moved, despite the strange and horrid nightmares that Erik endured. In Iran, Nadir had the horror of retrieving Erik each morning to be brought forward to perform whatever deeds he was asked to do. He was never commanded. You could never command a man such as Erik.

Looking at Erik now, Nadir could almost forget the tortures and the suffering that Iran had forced on Erik. It was a beautiful, alarming sight. Never had Nadir ever expected to see Erik, the feared magician of Iran, to be caught sleeping beside a beautiful woman. It was such a strange sight that Nadir stood in silence, comparing the memory of Erik's dark, disgusting cell, to the heavenly sight that he saw before him now. It had been horrendous, Erik had been like a trapped animal, spitting and scratching at thin air, screaming until he was hoarse. Nadir had been the only one to see such sights, none of the guards would approach the madman's cell, and indeed, many of the government officials who desired to see him had come to regret such actions. Erik had been so utterly alone, and now, Erik was not.

Erik's mask was facing Christine, tilted down as he slept on his back. Nadir only assumed that Erik was asleep due to the fact that Erik had not stirred, and Nadir had no desire to wake either of them, despite his urgent news. Christine was on her side, facing Erik, the top of her head cradled against his armpit, her sandals having been kicked off, her chest rising and falling gently. Christine would move slightly, pushing the underneath of Erik's arm with her head, and Erik would shiver, his arm flung out over her head in a mildly protective position that made Nadir think Erik was trying to guard her from all sides. His other arm was draped across his stomach, his fingers atop of Christine's as her hands rested in the space between them. Erik's fingers twitched against the back of her hands, shifting his arm across his stomach so his hand covered Christine's completely, his long, skeletal fingers making Nadir grimace, to his regret.

It was not hard to be repulsed by Erik, flashes of Erik's distorted and deformed face, pulled in anger, came to mind, and his skin was certainly an unpleasant factor, but Christine, in her innocence, did not see the danger Erik possessed. Even now, she was smiling, her eyelashes fluttering against her white cheeks, and she moved her face closer to Erik's side, pressing her nose and cheek to Erik's shirt and breathing deeply. Nadir looked away, he wasn't sure how to feel. Nadir knew that he had nothing to fear from Erik, regarding his appearance, but it was still a horrible sight to behold, making Nadir's hairs stand on end if he thought about it too much. Erik had always been the terrifying, haunting spectral figure, and to see him act almost human, was something that spooked Nadir to no end. And as for Christine...

Christine loved Erik, but she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Even if somehow, Christine was to know Erik's dark, disturbing past, and somehow manage to forgive him, then she would still have to face the ordeal of Erik's mask and what lay beneath it. And then there was the media, the constant public harassment that they two of them would face, the constant threats to their relationship, that they would have to live with for the rest of their lives. And then there was Carlotta. Nadir straightened, remembering why he had returned to them so swiftly. He needed to speak with Erik.

Looking at them both again, he knew nothing could convince him to wake Erik. He rubbed his neck, wincing. He could still remember the times when Erik had groveled before him, asking for undeserved forgiveness, Erik felt, when he had almost killed Nadir for waking him. It had been hard to forgive him, Nadir's muscles were still sore, despite it having been ten years, but he had come to understand Erik's actions. He knew that in Erik's nightmares, he would be looking to strike out at anyone, desperate to keep the bad dreams at bay, and often, that rage followed him into the waking world. Nadir knew he would have to wake Christine, and perhaps convince her to take a walk. He'd figure out some way of waking Erik safely, but he could not risk letting Christine see what would be an ugly sight.

He knelt down, his aching joints reminding him he was not a young man anymore, and gently pressed a hand to Christine's shoulder, shaking it slightly as he called her name. Her eyes slowly opened, and she blinked sleepily, looking up at Erik. She smiled, having not noticed Nadir, and she began to prop herself up on her forearms, slowly lying on her stomach, as she leaned her body forward to kiss Erik's mask on the lips, softly giggling to herself. Erik still did not move, but his leg twitched violently, making Christine jump.

"Erik?" She asked, confused as she placed a hand on Erik's chest, over his heart.

Erik moaned under his breath, his hand beginning to jerk about, and Nadir could see the worry that had appeared in her voice as she called to Erik once more.

"Erik? Erik?" She asked, beginning to rub his chest, to awaken him, but Nadir quickly took charge and grasped her shoulder again.

Christine looked up, surprised, her hair jumping about like little springs from the motion of her sharp head turn. Her little lips slightly parted as she asked timidly, "What's going on?"

"Nothing Christine, he is just asleep." Nadir said, omitting some of the truth from her, fidgeting as his knees began to ache.

Christine looked back down at Erik, smiling. "Oh... He must be having a good dream, then. Look at him!" She said happily, reaching up to cup the mask's cheek in her hand, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

Nadir wasn't sure how Christine had come to that conclusion, but he was happy to let her think Erik was sleeping peacefully

"He said he didn't sleep last night, so I'm glad he's asleep now." She said serenely.

Nadir watched as Christine started to clean Erik's mask with her thumb, trying to remove the pink lip gloss that was smeared across the mask's lips, but she couldn't seem to hold herself back from giving him another kiss, making Nadir's lips twitch. He was loathe to just drag Christein away, but if she continued, and successfully woke him, then there was no predicting what would happen. Christine was smiling when she looked up at Nadir, but frowned when she saw he was still kneeling beside her, looking unhappy.

"Won't you sit?" Christine whispered, before turning her body about so she could lie on her side to face Nadir, her back to Erik as she used his right arm as a pillow.

"Thank you, but no. I'm afraid I must speak with Erik... alone." Nadir paused awkwardly, as Christine stared up at him. "Business, you see. You'd only be bored."

"What kind of work?" She answered, to Nadir's surprise.

"Um..." Nadir struggled to answer that question. Which of Erik's business would bore her the most? "His... technical drawings for a project he's working on, some clients wish to speak with him regarding budget."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Erik had hundreds of clients, but he enjoyed ignoring them all, delighted with the fact that he was now the person in control, which left a lot of clients having to be put on hold until Erik felt inspired enough to finish his work for them. As of that moment, there was bound to be at least a hundred people trying to convince Erik to finish his designs, or release new music, or so on, so Nadir did not feel guilty in admitting this to her.

"Can't it wait?" Christine asked, looking a little sad. "I... I was hoping to tell Erik how I feel for him, but..."

"But things keep getting in the way?" Nadir finished, feeling very sympathetic towards the small girl. "You're trying to find the right time, but it never feels like the right time."

"Yes. I want everything to be perfect, I just... I can't stop thinking about what you said, when we first met. You said he'd reject my attentions, think I was making fun of him. I _can't_ just come out and say that I love him, he needs to be brought to that conclusion _himself_. I need to be patient, and show him as much love as I can before I leave. I think it will only hurt him if I tell him I love him, and then leave." Christine murmured, licking her lips. "He needs to be given kisses everyday, he needs to be given gifts and compliments and praises, and he needs to see that my feelings truly are the same as his."

"The same as his?" Nadir inquired. Had Christine been led to her own conclusion?

"Yes. Because he loves me." Christine said, turning to look at Erik. It was more to herself than to him, but Nadir listened patiently. "He... He doesn't just see me as the first good thing to happen to him, I mean, I'm not just some object that he has to possess because I've shown him kindness. He sees me. He really _sees_ me."

"Yes, Christine." Nadir agreed. "He loves you. You are most definitely the single most important person in Erik's life right now, and he-"

"No... No... " Erik moaned, interrupting Nadir, managing to stun them both into silence. Erik's voice had sounded so lost, so alone, but it took a much darker tone as he whispered painfully, "_Mother_..."

Erik was turning in his sleep, as though searching for something, his hands trying to reach out for something he was seeing in his nightmare. Both Nadir and Christine stared in bewilderment, as Erik's hands clumsily bumped against Christine's back, and over her waist, his hand hanging loosely over her stomach. His mask curled inwards, his chin tucked into his chest, the mask's nose and forehead digging into Christine's back as he began to take deep, strained breaths, his chest repeatedly hitting Christine's back as he struggled to breathe. It must not have been easy, with such a problematic mask on. It was becoming clearer to Nadir that Erik was having a particularly bad nightmare, and he urged Christine leave his side. Christine, having sensed that something was wrong, mutely agreed. She winced, and arched her back, trying to get comfortable as she tried to prop herself back up onto her arms, but Erik must have somehow sensed that his sleeping partner was leaving him, and he violently grabbed her, pulling her fragile form close to his chest in a rough, suddenly unforgiving manner.

"No... Please... _Please_..." Erik cried tragically, the arm Christine had been resting her head against now enclosing her entire neck, though from Christine's face, she was not hurt, only alarmed as he clutched at her shoulder. With his other hand, he had grabbed a fistful of her grey skirt, though it was already quite tight from the way it was caught beneath her, and he begged, "_Don't go_..."

"Oh, _Erik_..." Christine cried, turning her head to look behind her, at Erik, her cheek brushing against the mask's forehead.

She tried to uncurl his fingers from around her skirt, but she found she could not move them an inch, and she looked up at him again, her blue eyes wide as she tried to pull herself away. Nadir tried to help by pulling Erik's arms from around her neck, but as he grabbed Erik's wrist to pull Christine to safety, Erik's mask snapped up to look at him, and instinctively, Erik pulled Christine tighter to him, making Christine cry out in shock as she felt Erik press her wholly against his body possessively. Erik jumped, brought out of whatever daydream he had been consumed by, and looked down, disarmed by Christine's voice, stammering,

"C-Christine?"

Christine meekly nodded, turning bright red, and she tugged on Erik's sleeve around her chest, trying to make him release her. Erik's arms sprang away from her, and Christine sat up, unable to look at Erik as she covered her face with her hands. Erik's mask was focused on the back of Christine's head, his hand lifting up to touch her hair, where she could not see him, and he pinched a ringlet of her hair, He quickly yanked his hand away as he took in Christine's confused state. She had drawn her knees up to meet the back of her hands as they covered her face. Nadir could not hear Christine crying, but she was most likely very upset with Erik. Nadir couldn't blame her, he would not like to have imagined Erik's arms around his neck, and it must have made even worse by the fact that Erik had been clawing at her skirt, and very ungentlemanly act to do.

"Christine, I didn't mean t-to hold you. I didn't mean it." Erik cried, pushing himself away from her. "C-Christine?"

Christine turned to face Erik, looking very calm. "It's okay, Erik. I'm sorry, I was just trying to catch my breath." That didn't sound entirely factual, to Nadir, but Erik only asked,

"D-Did I hurt you?"

"No, Erik. You just surprised me. I don't think either of us expected you to wake so suddenly." Christine said, glancing at Nadir. She turned back, moving her legs so she sat on her ankles, her legs crossed beneath her, her hands folded in her lap as she stared at him, resting her chin on her shoulder as she glanced at him from over her shoulder. "You... you were dreaming?"

Erik was staring at Nadir, and Christine was too busy staring at Erik's mask to see his hands curl into fists. Was Erik angry at him? How could he possibly be angry at _him_? "Yes, Christine."

Christine nodded, and returned to staring at her feet. "About your mother?"

Nadir winced, wishing Christine _hadn't_ asked that question. As far as Nadir knew, Erik's mother had been a very sore point for him, the first women to hate him so completely. She was a mother without guilt, or mercy, from the way Erik had described her on the few times had opened up, which was usually when he had been drugged with morphine. She had been the one to give him his first mask, to lock him away from the world, to spurn his love and hurt him in so many different ways. It had been a torture of a different kind. Iran had promised him torments of the flesh, but his mother had gifted him with shattered hope and demons of a different kind. Erik never spoke of her when he was sober, but from his cries during the hot Iran nights, Nadir had discovered many cruelties that Erik had endured.

Erik dropped his head, the mask's face hidden away from view. Christine peeked at him, and whispered in a somber tone, "It's okay. I dream of my father too. It's painful, I know. It's different for you, it hurts you for different reasons. I wish I could take your nightmares and just burn them, but there's nothing I can do. I just hope that you know that I'll be here when you wake."

Christine smiled, and took his cheek, and lifted Erik's mask so he would look at her. "Nightmares don't last forever you know."

Erik sighed. "But Erik shall never forget them."

Christine smiled sadly, and leaned over to kiss him on the mask's forehead, her neck stretched out as she tried to reach him without falling over, her whole body twisted as she turned to her left, to face Erik, her arm the only thing holding her body up as she still held onto the mask. Erik's hand came swiftly to her back to support her. Christine's hair fell like a curtain from Erik's move to hold her up, the motion causing her swing to swing down and hide her face. She whispered something in Erik's ear, that Nadir could not hear, but made Erik's other hand come around to hold her neck, his fingers curling around her swan like neck, in an intimate way that made Nadir look away.

"I know you will." He replied, and he lifted his hand to stroke her hair. "You are an angel to give me that gift."

Christine didn't say a word, but pulled herself away, smiling sweetly as she looked up at Nadir.

"Would you still like to talk to him?" She asked, pulling Erik's hand away from her hair to intertwine their fingers, letting them rest in her lap. Erik was watching his hand, tilting his head to one side like a child would who didn't understand what was going on.

"If it would be alright." Nadir requested, bowing his head slightly. Christine was unbelievable, the patron saint of patience, he felt, as Christine continued smiling, and turned back to Erik.

"I'm just going to go to the ladies room. I'll be back soon, that's if I can find it." She said, before leaving yet another kiss on the mask.

She began to place her sandals back on, and perched herself on the balls of her feet as she got up. Erik still clung to her hand, but let go as she stood. Christine walked away, once Nadir gave her directions to the nearest toilets, and gave him a shy smile before she disappeared out of the conservatory. Erik and Nadir both watched her stroll along the gravel pathway, towards another building, looking around her with inerest. They watched in silence, until they could no longer see her.

Erik swore, dropping him back onto the blanket as he hid his mask in the crook of his arm, letting it hand over him in an awkward position, hiding his eyes. Nadir chuckled.

"It is a _pleasure_ to watch you woo, Erik, I am learning so many lessons on the issue of love-"

"Shut _up_. It was all going so well until I fell asleep." Erik groaned.

"So Christine was asleep first?" Nadir inquired, pointing a lazy finger after Christine. "And you were watching her?"

Erik's fingers twitched again. "Is that so wrong?"

Nadir shook his head, pursing his lips, but realized Erik couldn't see him, and answered, "I am not the person who should be answering that, but it is not such a crime. I often watched Amira when she slept."

It was hard to talk about his dear Amira, but sometimes, every so often, he could stand to think of her. She had been a devout woman, with love enough fr everyone, regardless of race, or religion. The way she had lit up whenever she saw him, or how she played with the neighborhood children. Even the way she looked in his bed with the morning light drifting through his windows had been a miracle in Nadir's eyes. She had been so beautiful, walking with grace wherever she stepped, her intimate little kisses and touches filling him with the strength to continue the horrible trials of his job. It was because of her beauty and her tranquility that he was even able to continue living his life, even now, after her death.

"Did you?" Erik asked timidly, removing his arm from his mask to look at Nadir. "She did not mind?"

"No, she used to say it made her feel loved, to know that I was watching over her." Nadir said, sniffing as he turned to look away from Erik. "But that was before she ... before she left."

"Yes..." Erik asked solemnly, and looked out the glass windows.

"It was very sweet until you started dreaming." Nadir said, trying to put on his best smile, turning to look down at Erik.

Erik groaned, and buried the bottom of his palms in the mask's eye sockets. "It seems even in sleep I can still hurt her."

"I do not think she was hurt. She was very happy cuddling you, and she even happier sleeping beside you."

"Do you think? I did not want to, I feared I might crush her, but if you say she was happy..." Erik's voice trailed off.

"She was beyond happy, Erik, her feelings have gone well past happiness."

Erik looked up at him, regarding him carefully. "Just what do you mean by that?"

"Well, you know, Erik, a woman can be very-" Nadir saw Christine approaching the glass doors, holding her hair from her face as the wind began to low quite roughly against her. Erik was entranced by her, watching as Christine laughed, though they could not hear her, trying to hold down her skirt as well. Nadir started to backtrack, and turned to Erik, prompting him to say, "We have a problem. One that I hoped to handle before she got back, but listen - _Carlotta has been seen inside the Winchester_." Nadir said carefully, pulling out his phone to show Erik the barrage of photos sent to him in texts that he had received from hotel security.

Erik sharply sat up, taking the phone from Nadir. "What? How?"

"I don't know, she's been seen there almost every day. Erik, you must take care with Carlotta, it only gets worse. She's been talking with Joseph Buquet as _well_, and the two of them together cannot mean a good thing. You must handle this before Christine leaves, or Carlotta will follow Christine and she-"

"Hey!" Christine called as she passed through the entrance. "Sorry about that, I got sidetracked by this cute couple who were looking for the toilets as well. They recognised me, and wanted to have photos with me-"

"Did you let them?" Erik asked, and Nadir could hear the tension in his voice. He sat back on his heels, wishing very much he could have had a stiff drink and a good chair. Erik was doing very well not to let it show, and it was only because of Nadir's many years spent around Erik that he could tell the difference between Erik's different moods, and how he was hiding them.

"I didn't see the harm in it." Christine said, shrugging, oblivious to Erik's disposition, and sat on the blanket between Nadir and Erik, facing the two of them with her back to the entrance. "They asked so politely, I couldn't help but let them take a photo with me. They watch my channel and-"

"Christine, you must not let anyone take any more photos of you." Erik urged, taking her hand. "You must trust me with this."

Christine blanched. "But, it's not as though they were going to sell it. It's only a photo of me with the two of them."

"That's not the point, I don't want you getting yourself noticed, or photographers and all sorts will come and gawp at us." Erik reminded her gently.

"I don't think anyone will recognize _me_, Erik. I'm not that popular a vlogger. My followers often don't recognize me even if I pass them in the street. I think the only way I'll be recognized is if you're standing next to me, and even then, people won't be paying attention to me-"

"My dear, you are still a celebrity, even when you are not standing directly beside Erik." Nadir chuckled. "I should think you would have realized that by now."

Christine didn't look convinced. "But I haven't _done_ anything."

"Most celebrities don't _do_ anything." Erik complained. "I can point out a dozen celebrities who have been made that way because of reality TV shows, or even because of famous relations. The fact that we are dating makes our story more interesting."

Christine smiled, giving a happy laugh as she rested her chin in her other hand as she continued to hold Erik's, "Our story?"

Erik squeezed her hand. "Yes, our story."

Nadir chuckled, running a hand over his head, glad to see that neither of them were upset. He had been so sure that Erik would strike out. He'd been sure too that Christine would have confessed by now, despite his wish for her not to say a word. It was not time yet, there were still so many things to overcome before such admissions could be brought to light. He was glad that Christine had taken the view of holding back her feelings until the right time. Nadir only wished that the right time would come soon.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every one!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	53. Chapter 53

**_HelloGoodby_**_**e's**__** 'Oh, It is Love'**_

_Oh,it is love from the first time I set my eyes upon yours thinking "Oh, is it love?"_

_Oh, dear_  
_It's been hardly a moment_  
_And you are already missed_  
_There is still a bit of your skin_  
_That I've yet to have kissed_

_Oh say please do not go_  
_But you know, oh, you know that I must_  
_Oh say I love you so_  
_But you know, oh, you know you can trust_

_We'll be holding hands once again_  
_All our broken plans I will mend_  
_I will hold you tight so you know_

_It is love from the first_  
_Time I pressed my hand to yours_  
_Thinking, "Oh, is it love?"_

* * *

Erik had never known such a fury that had threatened to consume him body and soul as he had at the mention of the scheming witch that was Carlotta. How _dare_ she ruin the one chance at happiness he had ever known! How dare she even _walk_ upon that hallowed ground where Christine stepped. What had she been doing at the Winchester, and how close had Christine come to seeing her? To speak with her? This was an outrage, and if Carlotta did not watch where she stepped, then a disaster beyond her imagination would occur. He would just have to give her a gentle reminder. Oh yes, he would see her this very night, and make sure she understood just who was in control. But he knew, when Christine stepped back into the conservatory, glowing with such heavenly light, he would not let his anger show. Christine could not know about Carlotta. It would only make her panic, possibly even try to take matters into her own hand. The thought of Carlotta whispering foul, ugly truths about him to his precious Christine was possibly enough to scare her away from him, and he could not let that happen, not if there was something he could do to prevent it, at any cost. He could not risk their blossoming relationship by frightening her with his temper. It was all going so well, every day he seemed to learn something new, about himself, about Christine, about the world. It was as though he had never seen it before. It was as though everything made sense, and that he understood the universe at last. Everything looked so interesting, and new. Christine saw everything that way, he supposed. She was so naive and innocent, that anything pleased her. Even _he_ somehow managed to please her. Poor, unhappy, ugly Erik managed to please sweet, kind, beautiful Christine. Erik was so close to having the single greatest thing a man could be given, and he would not let himself spoil it, or anyone else for that matter.

_I must never let Christine see me like this. I must be as gentle and as kind as Christine. I must not be horrid to her._ He had thought, but that had swiftly gone out the window when she had started to talk about a couple she met and taken photos with.

He did not want to reprimand her, he did not like the idea of setting such restrictions on her, she would only feel smothered, but she had complained that her followers hardly ever recognized her, and yet clearly these two had! It was annoying to think that Christine didn't believe that people actually paid attention to her. She had a successful channel, loyal followers and now the added publicity of dating him. Erik just wanted to close his eyes again and pretend there was not a thing wrong with the world. He could imagine walking Christine through Central Park, kissing her hands, smiling at her, and she would not turn away from him, if he had a beautiful face. They wouldn't have to hide away from the world like they were now. Erik hadn't realized how tired he was, and having such a short nap had not done anything to help. He just wanted to sleep beside Christine again, and hope to dream of her.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep beside her, it had been an accident. He had only wanted to watch her, and he had stayed so still so as not to disturb her, hardly even daring to breathe in front of her. She had been so beautiful, dozing off in the mid-morning sun, that he had praised God for giving him the chance to watch her sleep once more. Now, he was allowed to stay at her side, to bask in the glory that she gave him. She was turned towards him, lying on her side with her arms drawn close to her chest, her hands curled into little fits as she rested them in front of her face. He had been lying on his side, propping his mask up with his hand, but he found that his eyes had started to close, and his head was getting heavy. Without a thought to the consequences, he had laid his arm out around Christine's head, making sure there was a clear gap between the top of her head and his arm, and rested his mask awkwardly on his arm, just over his shoulder. It had been bliss, to stare at her long eyelashes, to watch her body rise and fall with each breath, to hear each little sound that escaped her pink, plump lips. She was beautiful, truly beautiful, a vision for Erik's tired eyes, and it as a treasure, just for him and him alone in their paradise. And it had led him to think of his beautiful mother...

He had dreamt of her, the way she had sat before her dressing table brushing her hair, the way she laughed at something, yes, even at him, and she had been right to. She had been the embodiment of beauty, with long blond hair, a petite, but humble figure, and when she had thought she was alone, she had the most beautiful smile. He had been the skulking little freak, hiding in the shadows and yearning for his mother's touch like a little monster. In the years leading up to her eventual departure, she had tried to keep him as far away from her, but Erik would always watch his beautiful mother. He would watch her clean the living room from the top of the stairs. He would hide inside the walls when guests came round, though that had soon stopped when his mask had gotten caught on a nail, and he had panicked. He had wailed for what felt like hours, and his mother, ashamed and embarrassed, had asked her guests to leave, and had to destroy a wall to get him out. He had reached out for her, sobbing hysterically, but she had only thrown him away, disgusted, shrieking,

_"You vile little boy! You horrible little monster. Am I never to have any friends? One hour, Erik. One hour without you! I cannot stand you constantly clinging to my skirts! Just look what you've done! I... I wish you were dead!"_

Erik had taken those words to heart, and even now, he could still feel the effect of her hatred towards him, long after her departure. He could still see her in his dreams, but she featured prominently in his nightmares, torturing him with vicious insults and brutal attacks. In his nightmare, she had been threatening to leave him. He had been howling, snivelling at her while he clutched at her skirts.

"_Don't leave me, mama. Don't leave. Please, I can make you happy. I'll make you happy._" He had been crying, burying his maskless face into her lap. "_I'll sing for you mama, I'll bring you your doll, please, please, I'll make you happy..._"

She had leaned down, her hair sweeping past her shoulders to brush against his face. She was so close to him, he could hardly breath. Her lips were so close to his forehead, that he thought would she would do so until she hissed, "_You can't make anyone happy._"

She had taken his arm, pulling on him, twisting his arm as she laughed, and he had woken up to find Christine nearly being strangled in his tight hold around her neck, Nadir kneeling before the two of them, letting go of his arm. He had released Christine instantly, looking her over as she sat up, away from him. He had been drawn to her hair, remembering the way his mother's hair had fallen against his face, and he had yanked his hand away from her head with the thought. Erik had wanted to punish himself for hurting Christine, she did not have to suffer his nightmares as well, but she protested against his apologies, telling him that she had been surprised than hurt. Erik wanted to believe her, but she was shaken. She needed a moment to herself, but she had decided to ask him about his dreams instead. Was she trying to help him or hurt him, he wondered, as surely after awakening to find him near strangling her, despite it only being his arm around her neck, his loathsome hand clutching her shoulder, she would not _want_ to know about his nightmare? He looked at Nadir, and tried to blame him, but it was no-one's fault but his own. True, Nadir had woken Erik, making him hurt Christine, but it was his fault really. _He_ had been the one to hurt her. Christine, like a saint, had understood, and comforted him even, as though she had seen his wretched memories. She confessed that she dreamt of her father, and it felt so good to _know_... to know _anything_ about Christine. She was just capturing another piece of his heart. She told him that nightmares didn't last forever, but Erik had lost himself in that thought. There was no respite from nightmares. He didn't sleep for fear of nightmares, and it was an endless parade of sunsets and sunrises, days passing into weeks, and it was such a lonely, pathetic existence, to be so afraid of images in his head, but it was all he had. The only thing that alone could lay claim to, and no-one, could see them. How could Christine ever love him? She would never be able to sleep beside him peacefully, without fear of being hurt, and it was because of _him_. He would always remember the many times Nadir had come to wake him, and the one time he almost died because of it. He had echoed his thoughts, and Christine had listened, smiling as she began to lean towards him.

Christine had closed her eyes and pursed her lips as she kissed the mask's forehead, and it had taken his breath away, as he felt the pressure build up on the mask. Christine _must_ have been able to read his mind, how could she have known that his mother had ... in his dream ... almost ... He had closed his eyes, holding his breath as he restrained himself from grabbing hold of her once more. To think that they had slept together, in a purely innocent fashion, was too much for Erik to bear. Why was she so good to him? Why did he deserve _any_ of her kind words, her smiles and attentions, her gifts, her thoughts or even her voice? But Christine was already tilting her head closer, and whispered something of immeasurable worth to him in his ear.

"_Then I'll help you forget. I want you to dream of me_."

Erik's chest had tightened, his blood had raced, and he had silently begged her to say those words again, so he could never forget them. She was giving him permission to dream of her? Was she truthful in this? She had turned back to Nadir, excusing herself so that they could speak in private, and Erik had watched their interlocking fingers with puzzled intrigue. Would she want him to dream of her if she knew about the camera? Erik wanted to cry, there would be no peace for him, even as he slept, and he could not even sleep with Christine close to him. Nadir waited until Christine was out of sight before speaking his mind, jesting with Erik quite meanly. It was rude enough the man had tried to wake him with Christine in his arms, but to joke with Erik on such a tricky subject was beyond discourteous. When Nadir found out that Erik had watched her sleep, Erik had lashed out, groaning mentally as he remembered the camera in Christine's room again. To Erik's surprise however, Nadir had condoned his actions, admitting he had done the same with Amira! And what's more, that Amira had felt loved by her husband's attention. Was there even a chance that Christine had liked it? How he wished he could just ask her, but it was forbidden, she would find that question disturbing, not to mention the camera...

Then Christine appeared, and Erik watched her walk with an unexplained grace, even though she was being pushed about by the wind, and trying her hardest to remain upright. There had been something about the way she walked that made him watch her especially closely. She had such a girlish figure, and she was so small compared to him. She was the complete opposite of him, a rose among thorns, so full of love and forgiveness, it made him want to cry. He had tried not to show his frustration at Carlotta, and soon, the moment passed. She was now buttering some bread, and holding the slice in her mouth as she removed another slice of bread from the packaging, tearing it up into little pieces, her nimble fingers gaining his attention. They were lovely hands, so slender and white, her nails had no varnish, but they looked exquisite nonetheless. Erik watched with a bemused expression, curious as to what she was doing, but it soon became obvious when she started looking around, chewing slowly as she took careful bites.

"Can either of you see the peacock?" She asked, after swallowing. "I wish we had seeds, or raisins, but they should like bread, shouldn't they?"

"I imagine so." Erik said, glancing around. He pointed casually to the undergrowth behind them, where he could see the tail of the peacock disappear as it began to walk down another path. "Over there." He sighed. Of course Christine would be attracted to beauty, she was beauty itself, after all.

Christine got to her feet, placing her bread on a plate that Nadir had gotten out for her, and she swept away any crumbs from her skirt that she could see. She looked down at him, and held her right hand out, her other hand cradling the breadcrumbs she had made. Erik looked up, and Christine waited for him to take it, but Erik found himself only staring at it. His hand slowly lifted, drawing closer to Christine's wiggling fingers, and Christine leaned forward and took his hand, squeezing it as she lifted him to his feet. There had been no resistance there, he had felt as light as a feather as Christine took the lead and guided him over the flowers, and the little stone wall, and brought him to where the path splits off, down a long corridor of french windows, where at the end, was a fountain, and the peacock. The peacock was wandering about the fountain, it's back turned to them as it pecked along the ground, it's tail lowered to the ground, it's long blue neck bobbing about. Christine pointed it out, squeezing Erik's hand as she looked up at him, and said,

"I never thanked you for bringing a peacock here."

"You shouldn't thank me, Christine. It was a pleasure to bring it to you. I only wish that its tail was on display for you. They're quite beautiful that way."

"You should have brought a female." Christine mused, turning to look back towards the peacock.

"What?" Erik asked, startled. Why would Erik want to bring any other woman here?

"I think they only put their tails up for display when they're trying to impress a lady friend. The female doesn't have a tale as beautiful as the male, but I think they're already cute without the tail." Christine said, tossing a piece of bread towards the peacock to gain its attention. "They're like little hens. We used to have hens, in Sweden, and they sort of look like hens."

Erik regarded her, taking in her expression. What was she trying to say? Ignoring the comment about tailless peacocks and hens, he repeated what she had said first in his head. To impress a lady friend. How was it that even _birds_ need how to court the ladies better than he did? But perhaps there was a way to impress Christine once more. He would need the assistance of the peacock, though.

"Would you like to get closer?" Erik asked, taking Christine's arm to wrap it around his own.

"Yes." Christine said, nodding, and she held herself closer to Erik as they strolled slowly towards the bird.

It looked up, having pecked at the breadcrumb Christine had thrown, and tilted it's head so one eye could see them clearly. Christine stopped walking, and Erik stopped as well, a step ahead of her, still holding onto her arm. She looked up at him, and said,

"I don't want to scare him."

"Oh, Christine, how could you? He has nothing to fear from you."

"He doesn't know that."

"You are not afraid he will hurt you, are you?"

"He has a sharp beak and sharper claws, he could hurt me if he wanted." She said logically. "If I upset him."

Erik pressed his hand on top of hers. "I would never let any harm come to you. _Any _kind of harm. I... I won't let him hurt you."

Christine smiled and took a step forward, so she was standing beside him. "I know." She whispered, bowing her head as she stared down at the ground.

Erik smiled. If only she understood the meaning of their conversation to him. He hoped she meant every word that she said. Of course she did, there were no lies in Christine, not a single dishonest word fell from her lips. He would believe her if she told him the earth was flat or the moon was made of cheese. He turned back to look at the peacock, and Christine did so as well, resting her head against his arm, making Erik feel so calm and collected.

_I'd do anything in this world to make you love me._ Erik thought._ I would burn buildings and topple empires for you. I can make you happy. I... I can._

With that thought in mind, knew now was the perfect time to showcase his tricks for Christine. He threw his voice across the room, and sang a sweet song to the peacock, so only it could hear, but Christine slowly began to peer at him, looking very confused. She was soon distracted though when the peacock shook it's head, and began to raise it's tail, spreading out it's magnificent feathers. Erik could make anything happen, if he so desired it. He hoped Christine would be impressed, and he was happy to see she was, as he turned to look back at Christine, her wide eyes and shocked face turning into a delighted smile as she clung tighter to him.

"Oh Erik, look! You aren't_ looking_."

"I don't need to." Erik said, brushing aside some of her hair, a few ringlets that had been blocking his view of her eyes.

She smiled at him, biting her lip as she turned her gaze to the breadcrumbs in her hands, and began to pick at them, her hair swinging back to hide her eyes. He could see through, through her ringlets, that she had closed her eyes.

"Thank you, _Erik_."

It made Erik tremble to hear her say his name so intimately. She had _sung_ his name. His dear Christine had sung his name as though it was a blessing, and he felt shivers run up his back.

Christine looked up at him. "Are you okay?" She asked, blinking.

"Yes, I... why don't you give it some of your breadcrumbs, Christine." He said, looking towards the peacock. It had lowered it's feathers now, watching the two of them.

"Yes, Erik." She said sadly, and took a few steps forward, kneeling down on the balls of her feet, and pinched a few breadcrumbs between her finger, tossed them forward nervously.

What had he done? Why was Christine so upset? Should he have said something else? Once again, he had been rude without meaning to. He watched as the bird took a few cautious steps towards Christine, and she held her hand out, ever so slowly, offering the breadcrumbs to the peacock. It's blue neck darted back to see Christine clearly, and Christine leaned back slightly. It tilted it's head to look inside her hand, and it quickly snatched a strip of bread, making Christine gasp suddenly. She pulled her hand away, alarming the bird, and she started to get up, dropping the bread crumbs. She was making very unusual noises, almost like crying, but she didn't look upset, only scared. The bird turned it's head to look at her, and skipped forward a few steps, trying to scare her off, and Christine took a few steps back, looking very panicked, and turned to run towards Erik. Erik held his arms out, hoping she would run into his arms, but instead, she poked him on the arm as she ran under his open arm, laughing nervously as she shouted,

"You're it!"

Erik stared at the empty spot where Christine had been kneeling, and turning around to look at Christine running away from him. He was very confused. He was what? Christine slowed down, having ran halfway down the path, and turned to look at him, catching her breath. She studied him seriously, and waved her arm, beckoning him over.

"Come on!"

"What?" He asked, throwing up his arms.

"You're supposed to chase me." She said, throwing up her arms as well, mimicking him.

"I'm supposed to?" He asked curiously. Was kind of trick was this?

"Yeah, you know, you're_ it_." She said, as though it was obvious.

"I don't know what that is." He said, putting his hand on his hips.

"Right." Christine said, frowning as she pursed her lips. "Okay, um, it's called 'Tig', and you're it. That means you have to chase the other players, what would be me, and you have to try and catch me. Then I'm it, and I have to chase you."

"Tig?"

"Yeah."

"I chase you."

"Yeah."

"Then you chase me."

"You are a genius, Erik, I must say that about you." Christine teased, sucking on her lips as she grinned, bursting out into a real smile, showing her teeth.

Erik grinned. He liked this game. This was a very good game to play. Erik twiddled his fingers, and wiggled his toes, before suddenly darting down the path, running as fast as he could towards Christine. Christine shrieked, her eyes widening as she jumped, realizing he had already started running, and started to laugh as she started to run as well, taking long strides as she turned left down the path, towards Nadir. Erik had never felt so elated, so full of energy as he rounded the corner to see Christine leap over the picnic basket, past Nadir, and over to the other path, laughing wildly as she went down the opposite corridor of Victorian french windows.

"What?! What's going on?! Erik?!" Nadir exclaimed, dropping his bream and jam as Erik soon followed her, running down the path as her, until he realized he had lost sight of Christine.

His heart stopped, as he returned around, looking for her. She was gone. He couldn't see her anywhere. Erik tried to breathe as he realized he didn't know where she was. He turned back, looking down to the end of the pavilion. He could only see the large domed room, with the fountain in the center, same as the opposite end of the conservatory, and he looked back towards Nadir, but he couldn't see him either. He could just see the edge of the grass, which was separated from the various plants and flowers, sheltered by large trees, providing shade. Where _was_ she? Had she left? He looked back towards the domed glass-house, until he felt a stone hit his shoulder, and he turned to see Christine dart out from the large bushes that ran along either side of the french window corridor, running towards the underground that was behind the grass.

Erik took a sigh of relief, and grinned, chasing after her. He could used to this, he thought, watching Christine dart between the trees clumsily, allowing him to catch up, and Christine shrieked with delight as he almost grabbed her shoulder, but she managed to hop over the stone wall, onto the path and run down the other corridor towards the peacock. Erik rushed after her, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he caught up to her before she reached the fountain, and swept her off her arm, one arm around her back, the other cradling her legs as she suddenly swung her arms around his neck, holding her fast to him. She looked up at him, surprise written across her face, but she smiled, blushing as she stared at him.

Oh yes, Erik could get very suited to this way of life.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every one!**

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	54. Chapter 54

**_Leann Rimes's 'How do I live'_**

_How do I,_  
_Get through one night without you?_  
_If I had to live without you,_  
_What kind of life would that be?_  
_Oh, I..._  
_I need you in my arms, need you to hold,_  
_You're my world, my heart, my soul,_  
_If you ever leave,_  
_Baby you would take away everything good in my life,_  
_And tell me now_  
_How do I live without you?_  
_I want to know,_  
_How do I breathe without you?_  
_If you ever go,_  
_How do I ever, ever survive?_  
_How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?_  
_Without you,_  
_There'd be no sun in my sky,_  
_There would be no love in my life,_  
_There'd be no world left for me._  
_And I,_  
_Baby I don't know what I would do,_  
_I'd be lost if I lost you,_  
_If you ever leave,_  
_Baby you would take away everything real in my life_

* * *

Christine had never been more in love before waking beside Erik, her face pressed to his chest, the way he was lying suggested that he was also asleep. She was so content to just lie against him, his chest hitting her back with each breath. She was happy to see him sleep, he had worried her before by his admission that he had not slept the night before meeting her. That thought flew out of the window when Erik had grabbed her so suddenly, pulling her to him. She had felt his entire body with such force behind her, her back pressed to his chest, her thighs pushing against his, and she had cried out in shock. He was clutching onto her so desperately, she thought he would squeeze her to death. Nonetheless, it had sent warm shivers up her spine, to feel him against her, his hands clasping at her with determination. He had let go of her, after Christine tugged on his arm so she could catch her breath, and she sat up, feeling very embarrassed with herself for even thinking of him in that way. It was so improper, but it was so _exciting_ as well. She couldn't stop thinking of how she had woken against him, and how different he had looked from when she had caught him sleeping on his couch. Before, he had been sleeping peacefully, but this time, he had hardly been moving, taking deep, haggard breaths. It had made her worry, but she reasoned he must have been having a very animated dream. She was glad, he deserved to have a thousand good dreams, to replace all of his horrid memories. She had only been told briefly about Iran, and his mother, but Christine could tell there was more to Erik's history than he wanted to admit.

Christine excused herself, allowing Erik and Nadir to speak, after they had spoken briefly about his dream, or nightmare, as it had turned out to be. He had dreamt of his mother, and Christine had to hold herself from calling the woman a rude name. She didn't want to say it out loud, but she was beginning to despise the woman that Erik called 'Mother'. How could a _mother_ do such horrible things to her own child? To hate and abandon her only child? It made Christine boil to think about her, as she continued down the gravel pathway that led to the main building. She was hoping that her words to Erik had comforted him, and she hoped that Nadir hadn't heard what she had whispered to Erik. They were meant only for Erik, and she wished that he understood what she was saying to him. She wanted him so much to know that she loved him, but there was a time and place for everything, and Christine would just have to wait for the opportunity to come along.

When Christine had dreamt of her father, it was of his rough, Scandinavian accent, or his hands, or the way he had played his violin. It had been painful, to awaken in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat and heavily panting, alone in her apartment, but whenever it happened, she would go jogging, to take her mind off of her father. Somehow, Christine figured that Erik wouldn't want to do that, but there must have been something she could have done to help Erik feel better? She thought about it as she continued down the gravel pathway that led to the main building, running a hand through her hair as she tried to forget about the way Erik's body had felt pressed against her.

She entered the building, walking into the lobby as she looked around, and saw that it was deserted. She wandered over to the reception area, and peered over the desk, trying to look into the back room to see if she could spot any employees. There were none, and Christine was very puzzled. Surely Erik hadn't cleared this building as well? There should have been at least someone. She looked over her shoulder, down one corridor, and was surprised to see a lost looking couple, who was now approaching her with determination. It turned out they were looking for the toilets too and someone from the cafeteria had directed them back into here. They walked together, down another corridor, chatting about the weather, and Christine enjoyed listening to their hastily spoken English, their German accents making it evident that they were tourists as well. The two of them had both seemed so lovely, and when it came to their asking for a photo, she couldn't help but agree to, once they expressed how much they loved her videos. She had been shocked to find that they even recognized her, but she supposed that after the last few days, anyone who watched her channel would have. It had never really happened before, so it was a new experience. It sort of made her feel like a celebrity. She had been flattered, discovering that they watched her videos to learn about London, and to improve their English, and Christine had grinned brightly as they took turns posing with her. It was funny, watching one of them pull a face while they stood beside her, the other taking the photos as they carried on chatting about their favorite videos. Christine had answered all of their questions, and she could see from the way they glanced at each other, that they wanted to ask about Erik, but felt it was impolite to. Christine was happy they hadn't asked, she wasn't sure what she would say if she was forced to answer them.

She waved goodbye to them, after she had visited the toilets, and quickly rejoined Erik, delighted to be back beside him. She had told him of her encounter with the other tourists, and Erik had tried to explain that she must not do that anymore, and she had been hurt. Why would Erik tell her off for speaking to her followers? They were such lovely people, and she had enjoyed chatting with them. The whole affair was soon forgotten though, and Christine and Erik were back to friendly terms. Christine soon convinced Erik to join her in her hunt for the peacock, as she had started to tear up the bread that had been in the hamper, and Erik had seemed closed off to her. It must have been something Nadir told him, perhaps something to do with the technical drawings Nadir had mentioned to her? Christine decided she would just have to make Erik feel better again. She would distract him from his horrible nightmare and his work, and let him unwind. He was too tightly wound up, and she wished for Erik to just take her in his arms again.

She tried to thank him for the peacock, but Erik brushed it off, saying it was no problem for him, and instead tried to apologize for the bird, as it's long tail feathers were drooping along the ground, and not up in the air like she had seen in so many photos. Christine didn't mind, it was still a beautiful sight. She had suggested bringing a female, but Erik had sounded very confused at that. She had explained that it was a male peacock, and it needed a female to impress for it to show off it's plumage, but Erik hadn't sounded very convinced, instead, he sounded rather distracted, as though he had retreated back into his head, forgetting about her. When Erik had suggested approaching the peacock, she had agreed, but as they got closer and closer to it, she could see it's long claws scratching at the ground, making deep trenches in the gravel, and it's beak made sharp pecks along the ground, that it made Christine nervous to approach it. Surely the bird wouldn't attack her?

Erik had assured her that the bird would not hurt her, but it still didn't make Christine feel very safe. Erik couldn't be faster than a bird, and if she upset it, then it would lash out before Erik could do anything. But she knew, that Erik meant his words, and that meant so much more than his actions, and she had stepped beside him, hoping that her words were getting through to him. She knew _he_ would never hurt her, but he still believed he would. She wished she could just make him see that he wasn't a bad person, he had just been led to believe that, for his whole life it seemed.

But then Erik had done something she couldn't explain, or she believed it was Erik. He did seem to make the impossible happen, as he had turned back to look at the peacock, and there had been something … something happening that Christine wasn't even sure she knew what it was. It sounded as though there was music in the air, but Christine couldn't hear anything. It was like a memory of a song, just echoing in her head, and she had looked at Erik, wondering if he could hear it too. He didn't seem too disturbed, and Christine soon saw why, as the peacock started to raise it's tail feathers, spreading them out in a large arch, making Christine take a deep breath in amazement. Erik wasn't even paying attention, he had turned to look at her, and she had urged him to look, but he had refused, in such a romantic way that Christine was grateful for the way her hair had covered her face. She had closed her eyes, repeating his words in her head, feeling so loved by the way he had insinuated that she was a far more appealing sight than the peacock. She had sung his name, a way of saying thanks, and poured as much emotion as she could into it. She wished he could hear her longing, and her desire for him, and while Erik had shivered, he curtly told her to give the peacock her breadcrumbs, and Christine felt disappointed. Erik was so difficult to read, sometimes.

She had approached the peacock, kneeling before it, and had tried to feed it, but it's quick, jagged movements had scared her. Who knew peacocks could be so spiteful and angry, she had thought afterwards. Her mother and father had owned some hens, but she had never heard any stories of how loud they were, or how annoying they had been. The peacock, having pecked at her hand, making her jump in alarm as she was brought out of her daydreaming, and she had stood up, upsetting the bird she had understood later, and visions of scratched out eyes scared her enough to make her bolt in the other direction. Erik had opened his arms to her, bowing his head down, ready to take her in her arms, but by the time she had reached him, she was already laughing, feeling stupid for being scared of a bird, and she had tagged him as she ran under his arm. She hadn't know what had made her run, or even prompt Erik to play such a silly game, but after some gentle persuasion, Erik had joined in, chasing her down the corridor. He had not needed a lot of persuasion, but she was happy that he seemed so playful once more.

She darted between trees, over the stone wall and through flowers, running as fast as she could across the picnic area, where Nadir had nearly had a heart attack from her sudden appearance, and she had leapt over the path, jumping into the brambles, and falling to the ground, the large leaves and overgrown plants hiding her from view as she laid herself close to the ground. She had managed to hide herself in the foliage on one side of the path, and Erik had come stumbling down it, halting when he realized he couldn't see her. He looked about him, searching for her, and still he couldn't see her. Christine held her breath, peeking out at his shoes from under some large, spikey leaves, and quickly snatched up a stone from the pathway, before Erik could see her hand. He turned back around, his back to her, as she had stood up silently, tossing the stone against his back as she darted off towards the undergrowth that was at the back in the picnic area, to the left of Nadir, who was watching them with a bemused confusion, munching on his bread.

Christine had managed to reach the large shaded area, where there were a few thin trees she tried trapping Erik in, her body twisting around the hard, rough trunks, but she hadn't realized how close Erik had gotten, _almost_ catching her, and she had let out a most girlish squeal when he finally had caught her, lifting her off her feet and swinging her around as she clutched at his neck. She had not expected that, as the sight of the ground disappearing beneath her had frightened her, until she realized it had only been Erik lifting her from the ground and that he had caught her.

"I didn't know you were so fast!" She had panted, reaching up to pull away some of the leaves that had gotten caught on his suit.

"You're quite fast too." Erik huffed. "I thought I'd lost you when you… Christine?"

Christine had been brushing off some of the leaves around his mask when she had watched something crawl up the mask's cheek, directly beneath her palm. She had held her breath, whipping her hands away from Erik's mask as he continued to hold her bridal style. She watched in muted horror as a big, fat _spider_ crawled down onto the mask's lips. Christine wasn't so much _scared_ of the spider, it had done nothing to her, but it was so creepy to watch it crawl across the mask's emotionless face. It had appeared so suddenly, and she wanted to brush it off Erik, but the thought of it crawling across her fingers had frozen her solid, and she was stuck, watching the spider wave its little arms in the air, as though it was mocking her.

"Christine? What's the matter? Christine?" Erik pleaded, tilting his head to one side, making the spider run about in confusion, and Christine had made a pitiful whimpering noise, pushing herself away from him, and Erik, hurt, lowered her to the ground, where she took a few steps back.

"Oh, Erik, I'm _sorry_, but there's a… there's a spider on your mask." She said, flinching.

Erik stiffened, and reached up with both hands, to search for the spider. He found it, crawling over his chin and down the mask's jaw, and he pinched the spider's leg, pulling it away from him. Erik stared down at it, opening his fingers as the spider feigned it's injuries, before trying to crawl away.

"_This_? This is what frightens you?" Erik asked, his voice cold. "A spider?

"It doesn't frighten me." Christine argued, though it was useless, Erik could tell she was spooked. "It's just, I'm not that big a fan of them. You wouldn't argue with me if it was a snake!"

"A spider is not as dangerous as a _snake_." Erik hissed. "A spider may be ugly, and unloved, but it is a harmless creature, Christine."

"I _know_." Christine said, pouting. "And they're not ugly, it's just silly to call a spider ugly, but I'm not a fan of most bugs. I don't like woodlice or centipedes, I don't even like moths, and they're practically butterflies!"

"That is not the point, Christine, the point that I am trying to make is that a spider can do nothing to hurt you, and yet you still try to flee from it. How can you be so frightened of an insignificant little creature? It only wanted to exist…" Erik said, pulling his hand away from his face, and tried to jab his thumb at the scurrying spider, which tried to dart about his hand. It was difficult though, as the spider was darting around the peeling skin and the deep ridge, and Erik's thumb kept missing it.

"Don't kill it, Erik!" Christine cried, frowning as she tugged on his sleeve with both hands. "Don't kill it."

Erik looked up at her, his thumb still hovering over the back of his hand. "But… it's scaring you."

"And you think that because it scares me that you have to kill it?" Christine asked, in disbelief. "According to that logic, you might as well kill Carlotta. She scares me too! Don't you think it's going a bit too far, killing a spider? Just put it down on some leaf and then leave it alone. Just, just throw it over there!"

Erik still watched her, and Christine groaned, taking his wrist, watching out for the spider as she jerked his hand towards the plants, shaking it until the spider fell off. It was still attached to Erik's hand though, by a long thin thread of silk, and it hung in the air, making Christine groan again, as she tried to wipe the spider's thread onto a leaf. Erik's hand was limp, allowing her to move it about freely, and the spider soon landed on a leaf, and Christine pulled his hand away, watching the spider as it started to scuttle away. She closed her fingers around him, and shyly looked up at him. He was watching her back, and she wondered what he was thinking. Was he angry at her? She hadn't meant to upset him, but perhaps she had. He must have been comparing himself to the spider, and it him, it must have looked as though she was scared of him.

She hugged him, wrapping her arms around him. He froze, as Christine buried her cheek against his chest, but he relaxed, and brought his arms around her.

"I'm very sorry for getting angry." He said quietly.

"It's _nothing_, just forget about it." She said, and pulled herself away. It had been disturbing to see Erik upset over something so trivial, but it was understandable. There was bound to be some trigger word or action, that led to this sort of behavior. Christine herself had become very upset over the mention of her father, when Erik had brought up her singing on the yacht. "You can, however, make up for it by walking back with me. We can have another cuddle on the blanket, if you like, and think of something to do."

Erik nodded meekly, and Christine took his hand again, interlocking their fingers as they paraded back down past the French windows. Erik was very quiet, Christine thought, and she wondered if she had _really_ upset him. Nadir said nothing, but it was obvious he heard something, as he avoided their gaze, sipping on some pineapple juice as he stared out of the window when they approached. Erik let Christine sit first, and she knelt down, sitting on her heels as Erik held onto her hand, and he joined her, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, facing her, as she faced Nadir, who had drawn one knee up to rest his arm on it. Christine stared between them, as they all sat in silence, pursing her lips as she tried to think of something to say.

"We, er, could play hide and seek?" She suggested childishly, looking. "Though, there isn't a lot of places you can hide in here."

Nadir laughed, and glanced at her. "Is that what you would like to do?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying to think of something we _can_ do." She said, shrugging, leaning forward to pull the hamper towards her. "To be honest, I'd rather just have another nap with Erik, but I'm too alert now to do anything."

She began rooting through the hamper, and grinned as she pulled out a bar of chocolate. Erik hummed beneath his breath, agreeing with her, and grabbed her around her midriff, pulling her into his lap so that she was sitting on his shoes. Christine had laughed, relieved that Erik was once again himself, and kissed him on the mask's cheek.

"Am I forgiven?" He asked, pulling a few leaves from her hair as she opened the packaging, tearing off a corner of the plastic wrapping, and took a bite. "I was… I was very rude to you."

"Yes, of course." Christine answered between chewing. She pulled a face. The chocolate wasn't very nice, she thought. "Ew…"

"Is it okay?" Erik asked, removing the chocolate from her hands. "Do you not like it?"

"It's so… bitter, and plain!" She said, sticking out her tongue. She reached into the hamper, and pulled out several white napkins, rubbing them against her tongue as she tried to wipe away any of the lingering chocolate. "What the hell?!" She cried in incredulously.

Erik chuckled at her rude words, and tossed the chocolate bar back into the hamper. "I am led to believe that European chocolates are far more sweeter and stronger than our American chocolate. You are probably not used to it."

"It's gross." She said, tossing the tissues into the hamper as well. "I'll have to get you some Cadbury's, or something."

"I've had Cadbury's, it is sweeter." Nadir agreed, nodding slightly. "We should be able to get you some if you like."

"Nah, it's okay." Christine said. "I just wanted to try American candy." The word sounded so odd to her, and it made her grin.

"American candy?" Erik teased, amused by her expression. "I am sure you mean _sweets_, Christine."

Christine laughed, as Erik's fingers begin to poke her in her sides, and Christine turned around, licking her lips as she reached out and began to tickle _his_ sides, lifting her arms up to tickle him around his armpits. Erik, gave a surprised yelp, and froze, clamping his arm down around her hands. Christine giggled, and tried pulling her hands away, but they were stuck between his ribs and his arms. Erik was laughing, watching her struggle, and he quickly dived his fingers around her sides, tickling her back. Her whole body contorted, trying to escape his scratchy fingers, and she managed to tug her hands out, throwing away Erik's hands as she gasped for breath, clutching her sides as she fell against the blanket, laughing hysterically. Erik, to her delight, had learned he was allowed to continue, and towered over her, gently probing her sides with his fingers, and started to tickle her again.

Christine could hardly breath, everything was just so brilliant and perfect and wonderful that she didn't ever want it to end. It could easily have gone on, forever and ever, just the three of them in their little Eden. It could have been just the two of them, and Christine would have lived the rest of her days in euphoric bliss. If only she had been wiser.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every one!**

**Also, some news you are really not going to like me for, but tomorrow is my birthday, which may mean that I might not be able to upload a chapter, or possibly even the chapter for the day after ,but I'm not entirely sure how it's going to go, this is just a head's up. I'm sorry! I know you're all attached, but believe me, the next chapter will be worth it. Carlotta will make an appearance. And believe me, you'll want to stay in this happy little bubble I've made for Erik and Christine here. **

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	55. Chapter 55

**_Bree Sharps's 'Cheap and Evil Girl'_**

_A cheap and evil girl sets out on the city_  
_She's moistened every curl, she's poisonously pretty_  
_And the unsuspecting fool falls prey_  
_As the dim detective's lead astray_  
_And the genuflecting boy's all say_  
_The cheap and evil girl will get her way_

_The cheap and evil girl_  
_The cheap and evil girl_  
_The cheap and evil girl_

_The cheap and evil girl dances if you're worthy_  
_She teases every twirl, she's deviously dirty_  
_And you fantasize about the ample_  
_Milky thighs you'd like to sample_  
_Vocalize to her example deep, illegal sighs_  
_Oh! It's a scandal_

_The cheap and evil girl_  
_The cheap and evil girl_

* * *

Erik had seen many awful, terrifying things in his life. He had attended many final trials, and personally executed dozens of prisoners, all at the whim of the Iranian Government. He himself had been treated like a prisoner, cold and alone in a dark, wet cell, until he had proved himself to them, and they had discovered the extent of Erik's talents. He was a magician, able to amuse and delight the highest ranking generals and officers, and he could invent the most fantastic devices, made to intrigue and please his captors. His illusions made the men talk, but his face kept them at bay. He had hated them all, their wide toothy grins, their dark suggestive glances, their thick fists pounding into his ribs whenever he tried to escape. It was worse when they demanded he remove the sack they had given him to cover his face. They dared each other to stare at his face, holding him as they tore it off, like it was some game to them, as though Erik was nothing more than toy for them to waste their time with. He could still frighten them though. His voice could mimic anyone, and he could throw his voice to such great lengths, as the Lieutenants had discovered when they heard their own voices down the corridor, to their enjoyment. They would force him to put on shows, demonstrating what skills he had, and at the end of each show he was forced to remove his mask. He would grin at any who showed discomfit or alarm. They would torture him, and they could kill him, but they would never make him sing. He would only be put under greater suspicion, and eventually, they would force him to use his voice for evil things. True, he was already performing evil acts for them, but they were nothing to what they could accomplish with his voice. They never found out that he could change minds and distort reality simply by whispering in their ears. The only person who knew, was Nadir. Nadir had been so unlike the other guards, Erik could see the discomfort that Nadir felt in capturing and making him suffer. Nadir would often try to talk to him, try to get him to eat. He tried to keep him alive, and Erik supposed it was guilt that inspired his motives. The only thing that kept Erik there, was the sudden offering of a laboratory, and writing desk, instruments and a bed. A real bed. It was all on one condition. He was to build. And Erik did.

That all seemed so long ago now. Being with Christine, it was as though he was trapped in a bubble, where time passed so strangely, every minute feeling like an hour. It was so perfect that it couldn't possibly be true. How had he deserved any of this? His wishful hopes for the two of them scared him, he had never known such peace, or felt so human, and it was all threatening to disappear because of one woman. It would be so easy to remove Carlotta. It would be so _easy_ just to dispose of the corrupt little pest. But he would not. It would only bring attention to them both, and it would hurt Christine if she knew. He could do nothing to protect her from Carlotta, and indeed, himself, but it did not mean that he would not try. There had to be a way for Carlotta to disappear without Christine knowing it was because of him.

It was still a lingering thought in his head, it was difficult to rest easy, even in Christine's presence, when Carlotta's appalling singing and her cruel smile were beginning to haunt him. Erik took a deep breath, and willed himself to relax. He had Christine in his arms, and he could forget about his past, about Carlotta, about Raoul and about everyone else in the world. He had Christine, and she was not going anywhere.

Apart from when she had stared up at him, her eyes widening as she stared at his mask. She had completely clenched up, petrified as her eyes followed something. It couldn't have been the mask, she had only been smiling a few seconds before! But now it was as though... His mask hadn't fallen off though, there was no way for it to be removed from his head without his being fully aware of every second. So what was going through Christine's mind? What was wrong? He tried speaking her name, hoping it would calm her, but she only wriggled in his arms, further away from him, and Erik could feel his ribs crack as he bent down to lower her to the ground. Even after all of the torture, the broken arms and shattered dreams, it was surprising how much pain he could still feel. He thought he would have been numb, after the cruel years and the crueler rejections. But Christine had managed to hurt him without saying a word. It was enough to see the horror in her eyes, and it was a kick in the teeth, to think that Christine would ever feel safe and happy in his arms. It was a futile dream to dream.

Christine had warily pointed at his mask, and had anxiously pointed at the mask, saying there was a spider running across his mask. Erik felt thankful that her disgust wasn't directed at his mask, but he felt conflicted. Of course she would be frightened of a _spider_. Lovely, saintly Christine, who had never known an evil soul or said a spiteful word, of course she would be frightened of spiders. She did try to protest, but it was _beyond_ clear how frightened she was of the equally scared little arachnid. People did not scare her. Carlotta seemed not to weigh on her mind, and she even curled herself up to a _murderer, _why would she not find spiders creepy and offensive? Poor, timid little Christine was frightened of something she could not control, something she could not charm and something that could not love her. Because that was all she wanted, wasn't it. To be loved? She put up with his touches and his embraces, not because she admired him in any sense, but because he could lavish her with gifts and sweet words, far more than any other _man_ could!

No. That was wrong. Christine was not like that. She was angelic, without malice or evil. She saw everything through rose tinted glasses, and to her, the world was beautiful and people were good. How he wished he didn't have to destroy that vision. He loved her innocence, her purity, her resolute determination to please and pamper him. It was all too good. _She_ was too good. Anything she saw as a threat, no matter how big or how small, he would remove it for her. She did not want her ever to be terrified, even of the poor, ugly little creature that wanted to live. He would kill it, and hope she would be no longer scared to let him hold her hand. She would not want to touch him, not now that she had seen the spider crawl over his hands. She wouldn't want a freak like him to ever touch her in an intimate fashion. Up until this point, Christine had treated him to many pleasures, ones he thought he would never experience, but she would never be able to give him the one thing he truly wanted. A wife. A little living wife, for him to cherish and hold, to overindulge and spoil. He could not expect that of Christine. It would be asking too much of her. She was so young, so open, the world was her oyster, and he could not ask her to spend her life with him. It was too much to force on her.

Christine had looked even more horrified and angry when he tried to kill the spider. Erik was confused when she begged him, her voice was strained, and she was so incredulous that he would try to kill the little thing. Wasn't she frightened of it? Did she not want it gotten rid of, so she would no longer have to look at it? What was Christine trying to accomplish by letting it live? He had watched, stunned as she had taken his hand of her own free will, and shook the spider off, her soft skin brushing against his leathery digits. She had argued that the spider need not die because it scared her. Erik was immensely glad, glad that _he_ did not scare her, but she had brought up Carlotta's name, and admitted that Carlotta scared her.

To think, that Carlotta was a worry in his Christine's mind, to her to invade his beloved Christine's mind was unwelcome news. He wished he could remove all dark thoughts from his angel's mind, and kiss her forehead and wish her sweeter thoughts, like the way Christine had was he had awoken from his nightmare. Christine hugged him, however, as though _he_ was the one who needed comforting. He was happy to see he had been forgiven, as his short outburst must have upset her. He had sworn to never be horrid in front of Christine, and he had ended up arguing with her already. Did other couples have these problems? Surely, in the first week of courtship, couples did not face the same problems that they were enduring? Old flames, past mistakes and hidden secrets. Maybe it _was_ normal.

Christine took him back to the picnic area, where Nadir was pretending to ignore the two of them, and Christine tried to take everyone's mind off of the foul mood in the air by suggesting games, but neither Nadir nor Erik were in the mood. Erik couldn't stop thinking of Carlotta. Who knew what she was up to? With Carlotta prowling around the Winchester, didn't that at least mean that Carlotta could easily know when Christine was not at the hotel? Was there even the slightest chance that Carlotta would know she was with him? If Christine and Carlotta just happened to meet in the lobby, would Christine listen to a single word that the seductive temptress would have to say?

"Erik?" Christine asked, gently tapping his bare hand. It flinched in response, as Christine smiled. "You still with us?"

Erik looked down to see Christine sitting up, catching her breath. A few minutes ago, Erik had been teasing her, her British accent making the American word 'candy' sound so sophisticated, and he had tickled her, hoping her laughter would distract him from the destructive reasoning in his head. He had to remove Carlotta that evening. It was the only way to ensure that Christine would never encounter her. It was a matter really, of what would tempt Carlotta to leave. Money, fame, or his voice? It was far more tempting to use his voice against her. He could suggest a number of things to her, and she would think her resulting actions without be of her own accord.

"Yes, I am here." Erik answered, as Christine smirked, staring at his hand she covered it with hers.

"That's good." She said, brushing back her hair that hid her face from him. She was picking up on the fact that he enjoyed seeing her face. "So, are we doing anything else? Because I wouldn't mind hanging with you at your apartment again."

Erik smiled. "You enjoy my apartment?"

"Yes, how can I not? It's so beautiful, it's like a church." Christine mused. "That, and we can be alone."

Christine rolled her head over to look at Nadir, and pulled a sillly face, indicating that she was speaking of him. Nadir rolled his eyes, chewing slowly as he wiped his hands free of any crumbs. Erik frowned as he thought about what she was asking. Didn't Christine like the utopia he had created for her? Why would she want to leave?

"You know it's for everyone's benefit, after all, you are... _oh_." Nadir said, swallowing his toast as something occured to him. He looked at Christine, and she smiled.

Erik was baffled. Yet another private conversation between the two of them. It was something about his apartment, at least, or the two of them being alone. Weren't they already alone? Had Christine managed to acquire more decorations for his apartment or something? He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of Nadir helping Christine yet again behind his back, he would suggest some stupid ideas, to keep himself amused. Was that why Christine was eager to leave? She turned to face him, and surprised him by asking,

"Or we could go to my hotel room? We could watch a movie, order some food, it's all expenses paid." She said, grinning, wiggling her eyebrows, as though the idea of ordering awful films and even worse food was fun.

The idea of relaxing with Christine in her hotel room was one that Erik did not dare contemplate. She had already allowed him to sleep beside her, and to hold her as she slept, but to even have the slightest chance of either happening upon her bed, in full view of the camera, made Erik wish he had never put the damn thing up in the first place. He wouldn't have felt so _guilty_ if he hadn't put it up. But it was a nessacary evil, he needed to know she was safe without him, and he would bear the guilt if it meant that Christine was never harmed.

"I would prefer to see you in my home, Christine." He said. It wasn't a lie, he did prefer seeing her in his home. He could pretend that she was living with him, as ungentlemanly as it was to imagine. He had loved their time in his kitchen, baking together, and in his music room, he had found tranquility and order in his dreary life. To see her walk around his home, to watch her read a book, to watch TV shows, and hold her, and love her, it was just a masquerade. One last chance at being normal. "You can do whatever you wish there."

Christine smiled, tilted her head to one side. "You know, I'm just trying to think of ways to entertain _you_."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I mean, we can't always do what I want. I want you to be happy too." She said. Her voice was so captivating, she could very well have sung that last sentence.

"I would be happy anywhere, with you. You must know that?"

"I do." Christine said, watching him closely.

Erik smiled, and reached out to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her eyes closed, and she smiled, her lips spreading out to the corners of her face. She looked so restful, he hated to disturb her by pulling his fingers away. She opened her eyes, and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again.

"What, Christine?" Erik asked, his hand drifting over to her ear, to tuck a few curls behind it.

"It's nothing. I'm just starting to worry that you're neglecting your work because of me. Nadir said you had to speak to some clients, about a budget and some technical drawings? You're not getting in trouble, are you?"

Erik cast a grateful glance towards Nadir. When he had managed to slip this thought into Christine's mind, Erik didn't have a clue. It must have been before he had awoken from his nightmare, and it must have been for Nadir to speak with him alone. How good of Nadir to not mention Carlotta to Christine. He would have to apologize for his conduct towards him.

"No, I am not. But… It does require my attention." Erik said sorrowfully. Would Christine think ill of him if he expressed wanting to spend time away from her? She would understand, wouldn't she? He only needed an hour or so, just to deal with Carlotta. She would wait, wouldn't she?

Realization dawned on Christine's face, and she smiled. "If you need to go handle it, then I understand. You have a life outside of me, and I don't mind if you leave from time to time to handle it. We don't have to spend every second together."

_But I want to_. Erik thought miserably, but answered, "Thank you, Christine. I shall not be long, Nadir will keep you company while I am away."

"Won't you need Nadir?" She asked, turning to look at Nadir with a quizzical look.

"That's okay." Nadir said, after giving Erik a slack-jawed expression. "Erik would return to you sooner if he did not have me beside him.

Christine turned back to Erik, looking uneasy. "If you're sure. Do you want us to stay here?"

Erik frowned. He had planned more surprises for her, and didn't like the idea of Christine enjoying them without him. He had planned for fireworks in the evening, and he had been looking forward to watching them in Christine's eyes as she looked skywards. He would just have to save them for another time. It was a good thing, he wasn't sure how she'd react, or what he'd do after.

"No, I will be taking you both back to my apartment. Will you wait there until I return?"

"Yes Erik." She said, nodding.

Together, they began to gather up the hamper and the blanket, Christine occasionally peeking up at him, and then smiling harder than she had been, which made Erik want to laugh. Nadir helped, though he was happy to watch the both of them as he stood up, carrying as many cushions as he could.

After they had pulled in the underground garage beneath Erik's apartment, they had all gotten out, Christine smiling from Erik's promises of a wonderful evening, Erik sweating profusely as he nervously thought about leaving Christine's side, and Nadir just happy he wasn't going to have to put up with any more cushions. Christine jogged on ahead, saying she wanted to see if she could find the doors to the elevator and open it herself, which only made Erik and Nadir chuckle mercilessly. Nadir turned to Erik, with a serious look on his face as Christine reached the wall and began to search it.

"You're going to see Carlotta." He said, frowning.

"Yes." Erik answered, watching Christine paw at the wall as though she was looking for diamonds.

"Be careful."

"I will." Erik turned to look at Nadir. "If I'm not back in two hours, take Christine back to her hotel."

Nadir sighed. "Erik, do not do something you will regret."

"I am not planning on murdering her, though I am tempted. I'm just going to suggest that she leaves us alone." Erik said, looking back at Christine. She was leaning on one foot, holding her elbow as she cupped her cheek with her hand, resting her head on her palm. "I will not kill again."

Nadir smiled, though it must have been hard. "I think you might when you find out where she's wanting to meet you."

Erik turned slowly so Nadir wouldn't see his temper beginning to flare. "Where?"

"In the room above Christine's. She had one of her friends book the room."

Erik flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles as he reigned in his wandering mind. That would mean Carlotta would be sleeping above Christine. That was not acceptable. "I will get her out." He said darkly, turning about to face the car.

"Erik, say goodbye to Christine before you go. Give yourself that comfort, at least." Nadir said, placing a hand on Erik's arm.

Erik closed his eyes. He was scared to look at Christine. The hard work he had done to keep Christine as close to him as possible, and to make him special in her heart, it was so close to falling to pieces. He nodded, however, and turned about to face Christine. She was drifting forward, watching him with apprehension.

"Erik, is everything alright?"

Erik nodded, his eyes darting across her face, taking in every detail. "Yes, forgive me. I was just wondering if I should leave everything in the limo so you don't have to take them up. It's alright, I can do it later." He said, reaching forward to bring her head closer to his mask. He buried his face amongst her curls and breathed her in.

"Okay. Just make sure you don't drown in cushions, or you'll end up like Nadir." She whispered in his ear, giggling.

Erik breathed a large, happy breath, and nodded. "I'll be careful."

Christine brought her head back, and kissed him on the cheek before lowering herself down. "Don't be too long."

Erik nodded. He whispered goodbye to her, with more grief than he could spare, and said farewell to Nadir, and entered the limousine, ordering the driver to take him straight to the Winchester. He could not get the image of Carlotta's smug little face out of his mind. No doubt she would gloat about her new sleeping arrangements, but Erik would not let anything distract him from his real goal. To remove the obstacle that was Carlotta. He would also have to find out her connection to Joseph Buquet. God only knew what Carlotta was planning with that lecherous _rat_. He would have to be on his toes, and think as many steps ahead of her. He plotted on the journey to the hotel, staring at his clasped hands. He pretended he was holding Christine's hand, but it was not the same. Whatever Carlotta wanted, he would give it to her, but he would ensure her disappearance from their lives with his voice, to be sure.

The limousine pulled up to the hotel, and Erik got out stiffly. He jogged across the lobby, ignoring the astonished look on Ms. Giry's face as she tried to chase him, but she missed him as he leapt into the elevator and he held out his hand to signal her to stop. He needed to handle this alone, She did, but she did not look happy. She gestured she would be waiting in the lobby, and he nodded as the doors closed. The elevator was taking far too long, Erik thought, but he arrived, and mustered as much courage as he could before stepping out. He walked along the corridor, wondering how much time he wasting, but he was so reluctant to meet Carlotta. He knew she would be manipulative and bossy, but he would just have to wait until he could shut the door behind him. Then he could take what he wanted and leave. He appeared outside her door, and knocked, looking down the corridor and inspecting each door. He was sure he had the right one.

He was waiting for a minute or so until the door opened, and Erik swiftly looked up, to see Carlotta herself staring at him with the biggest grin on her face. She was wearing black slinky trousers, and a plain pink jumper. She had her hair tied up in scruffy bun, and she opened the door wider.

"I was wondering where you crawled off to." She said, cruelly smiling. "But how good of you to join me, I was just watching a home movie."

She turned around and walked into the bedroom. "You'll like this, I know. Your dirty little secret is safe with me."

Erik felt his face twitch, and then once more on the other side of his face. He didn't want to go in. Already, she had won the first round. She had rendered him speechless as he wondered just what had happened in the space of a few seconds. She turned around to look at him, standing at the end of her bed.

"C'mon Darth Vader, some of us have empires to destroy." She said, smirking.

Erik held his breath, and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He knew he should have just taken her then, to have just enraptured her with his voice and be done with her, but her next words chilled him to the bone. She was gesturing to her bed towards something, with a smirk on her face.

"I love her sandals."

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one**

**Thank**** you for all of the birthday wishes! They've all been wonderful and I wish I could hug you all! Thank you so much!**

**I imagine that Christine was eating Hersheys, I tried that myself a long time ago and it certainly wasn't what I was expecting!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	56. Chapter 56

**_Hall and Oates's 'Maneater'_**

_She'll only come out at night_  
_The lean and hungry type_  
_Nothing is new_  
_I've seen her here before_  
_Watching and waiting_  
_Ooh, she's sittin' with you_  
_But her eyes are on the door_

_So many have paid to see_  
_What you think_  
_You're gettin' for free_  
_The woman is wild_  
_A she-cat tamed_  
_By the purr of a Jaguar_  
_Money's the matter_  
_If you're in it for love_  
_You ain't gonna get too far_

_(Oh-oh, here she comes)_  
_Watch out boy_  
_She'll chew you up_  
_(Oh-oh, here she comes)_  
_She's a maneater_  
_(Oh-oh, here she comes)_  
_Watch out boy_  
_She'll chew you up_  
_(Oh-oh, here she comes)_  
_She's a maneater_

_I wouldn't if I were you_  
_I know what she can do_  
_She's deadly man_  
_And she could really rip your world apart_  
_Mind over matter_  
_Ooh, the beauty is there_  
_But a beast is in the heart_

* * *

Carlotta had certainly not expected Erik to appear outside her hotel door, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless, and one she would welcome eagerly. She had been waiting for Erik to notice her, hoping that her little appearances in the lobby below would get his attention, but it seemed only by getting her confidantes to book a room directly above that naive little chit was the only way of getting Erik to see her. If only she had known he was coming to speak with her_ then, _she could have dressed in a more appropriate outfit, to emphasize the point she was about to make. But hell, at least now she could be certain the freak would be listening to her every word instead of lusting over her body like he had before. She needed his full attention, and she wanted him to be conscious of every second. It was just annoying that by seeking her out first, Erik had jumped the gun, so to speak. Or perhaps rope would have been a better analogy. Erik did know so much about ropes. It was something of a specialty of his.

He had turned up early, uninvited, and she wasn't even prepared, not for this situation. For years, she had been planning her revenge. She'd known exactly what she would say to him, what she would do, where they would be and what words she would use. That all changed with the arrival of the silly British girl, Christine, but it would be her departure that would seal Carlotta's future. How _lovely_ of her to join in the games, it did make it so much easier to manipulate the masked monster. Before, Carlotta had become allies with Joseph Buquet, hoping to use his ties to multiple broadcasting companies and newspapers to twist Erik's arm, but now that Christine had come to play, there was no need for the smelly little man. He had outlived his usefulness the moment Christine stepped onto the red carpet. Now, Carlotta didn't have to think about Joseph betraying her. It was easier to just betray him first.

To watch as Erik nervously stepped into her hotel room, to watch as he clenched his hands into fists, to hear his breath hitting against the inside of his mask, it was too much, it was too _fulfilling_, for Carlotta to handle. Her whole body was set aflame with the thought of her revenge only minutes away from being fulfilled. She couldn't control her breathing, her skin was tingling with anticipation, and her every instinct was to just scream and laugh. Laugh at the pathetic slave that Erik was about to become. But no, she needed to be in control. Her very soul demanded retribution, her ancestors would cry her name in triumph over defeating the pathetic worm that Erik Destler was, and she would not let this moment be ruined. She had dreamt of this moment, and she would not let herself spoil it. Erik thought he could get away with almost killing her, but he had picked the wrong person to cross. Carlotta enjoyed her little games, they were amusing to play, and each round that she won would get her closer to her dream. Five years. Five years of plotting and waiting. Five years of her dream inching away from her bit by bit. Five years, working for this very moment, and it would all be over tonight. She felt so relieved, so lightheaded and free. It was as though she had been carrying around her hate and anger in an overpacked suitcase, dragging it behind her as it's wheels squealed for repayment.

Her dream was to become the most beloved woman on the planet. She had been close, as five years ago, she was one of the most up and coming stars of the opera world. She had been even more beautiful back then, her youth a clear advantage with her curvy breasts and ample thighs, but at her age now, it was too late to be cast as anything other than old women and bit roles, instead of the lead roles that she had once been promised so many years ago. There had even been talk of auditions for movie roles from her manager, and it had filled her with such confidence back then. She had men and women begging her to bed them, but she had set her sights on Erik. He was the only person who could shoot her straight into stardom. She had planned to charm him into her bed, to marry him if needs be, but either way, she had needed his name attached to hers in order to complete her goals. Her face would be everywhere, in movies and television, her name attached to brands and adverts across the world, and it was all Erik's fault that she was not that woman now. When she had her revenge, then she could focus on the future she was destined for. And she would use and abuse Erik to do it. Her revenge would be the lullaby that would sing her grandchildren to sleep.

Hearing his knock at the door, she had thought it to be Piangi, or someone else she had been fooling around with, but it had instead turned out to be Erik, and she knew, it was now or never. She could hardly believe her eyes when she looked through the peephole and saw him standing there. She had thought it to be some trick of the light, or some cruel farce, but when she had opened the door, she knew instantly it was him. She had invited him in, thousands of screaming voices rushing to her head as she went back to stand before her bed, to stare at her laptop. She had been watching the screen with morbid curiosity, replaying the video that had been streaming to her laptop over and over again. Only now, Erik could see it too.

He slowly entered further into the room, his back straight as he rounded the corner, already trying to see what she had been referring to when she had invited him in. His mask, disturbing as it was, turned to face the laptop on her bed, as Carlotta wildly tried to calm her desperate lungs, and she had pressed her fingers to her lips to stop herself from spoiling the surprise.

"This is my _favourite _part. I can't stop watching this bit, it just makes me so _happy_." She said, tilting her head to one side as she looked at the screen.

There was nothing from either of them as they watched in silence. Erik stepped closer to the bed, and Carlotta needed deep breaths to contain her excitement. He looked so powerful in his suit. The whole situation was exactly how she imagined it. Carlotta only watched Erik, looking for something, anything, that would reveal that he knew what he was looking at. Her heart was fluttering, beating out a tune that would warm her even the coldest of nights as Erik's fists tightened, and he swung his head up to look at her.

"How.. How..._dare_ you?!" Erik roared as he stepped around the bed, grabbing her arm and squeezing it hard as he pulled her close.

Carlotta was laughing, unable to hold it in and Erik growled beneath his breath, towering over her. The pain was nothing, _nothing_ compared to the satisfaction of hearing fear and anger in Erik's voice. He deserved it, he deserved to have his mask smashed in and to have his own voice broken. She had cackled darkly, and turned to look at the image of Christine jumping out of Erik's arms as they stood in a conservatory. Carlotta liked that part.

It was being forwarded to her by some nerdy little geek in California that Carlotta had wrapped around her finger. She had ordered him to forward anything he thought she would find useful, anything on the internet that mentioned '_Chrisik_', (Of all of stupid trends in Hollywood, the act of coupling names was at the top of Carlotta's list) and he had sworn to scour the internet for any unpublished photos or amateur videos. The day before, he had emailed her photos that he found on some social media website of Erik and Christine entering _Tiffanys_. She had been too angry to respond, and even angrier when later that evening, they had been all over the news, every anchor so charmed by their adventures out in New York. They even pointed out a silver braclet that Christine was found to be wearing, that she hadn't been wearing before. They were going crazy for her, and Erik as well, but that was only because of _her_. She received another email, only a short while ago, which claimed to have found a couple from Germany who had uploaded a photo of Christine only a few minutes after having spoken to her, and Carlotta had seen from the signs in the background, that the girl was at the New York botanical gardens. The geek, whose name she was _convinced_ was Corby, had managed to hack into the CCTV in all of the buildings, claiming that 'video sniffing' was like childplay to him, but Carlotta hadn't understood the term and curled her lip as Corby tried to explain it to her. He was possibly trying to peak her interest, but she ignored him, instead, watching the screen on her laptop. He had streamed it live to her, and Carlotta had watched in astonishment as Erik chased the sprightly little girl around one of the conservatories. It looked... It looked...

Carlotta banished any sort of positive feeling towards the two of them, no matter how small, and ordered Corby to find as much footage as he could, practically barking it down the phone, and he had nervously forwarded her some clips of the two of them feeding a peacock, of them cuddling and kissing, of them _sleeping in each other's arms_. Carlotta could even see that Erik's hands were bare, but it was difficult to make anything out from the jittery security footage. It was black and white, poor resolution, and instead of running normally like most footage, it was shown in single frames, each a few seconds apart. Carlotta thought that Christine was mad by the way the girl kissed the mask. Why would she kiss something that he wouldn't even feel? Carlotta could think of much better places to put her lips in order to win Erik over to her, but the girl was very childish, and would probably blush at the mention of such things. Maybe that was why they both mutually enjoyed each other's presence, _she_ would never have to show Erik the pleasures a woman could give, and _he_ would never have to worry about pleasing Christine sexually, not without his mask on. It was a win-win situation for both parties, and it did serve to bring them both attention from the media, despite their useless cries of wanting privacy. No celebrity wanted privacy, they wanted the _illusion_ of privacy. Carlotta couldn't understand it. Most people begged to have their 15 minutes of fame but when the limelights hit and they were suddenly all everyone wanted to talk about, they hid away behind caps and sunglasses. It disappointed Carlotta. Fame _was_ fortune. To have fame and not even appreciate it felt like a cardinal sin.

Carlotta looked up at Erik, grinning maliciously. "Oh, come now, you can hardly be surprised. I thought you'd like a copy to add to your collection." She paused, pursing her lips as she pretended to think seriously for a moment. "Can you call a hidden camera in a hotel room a collection?"

The mask was facing her, looming over hers, until he pulled away, releasing her arm. It made Carlotta want to sing, the way she had broken him. And there was still so much to torture him with! He took a few steps back, and Carlotta's lips twitched into a smile, as she licked her lips.

"Didn't think I knew, did you? A little birdie told me. I must admit, my slaves are far more loyal to me than yours are. But then again, they _are_ yours... I just stole them." She said, walking over to the minibar to get herself a drink. Like Erik, she could bend people to serve her purposes. It was easier for mindless idiots to follow a damsel than the dragon. Finding out about the camera had been easy, it was simply a matter of finding the right songbird to sing. She pulled out a small bottle of tequila and groaned. "These are never big enough, I don't know why anyone would bother-"

"Who told you?" Erik asked, planting himself down on the edge of the bed, so he didn't have to look at her laptop.

"No-one had to tell me." She purred, walking to stand beside him, and leaned over to place her lips close to the mask's ear. "Aren't all monsters perverts? Of course you'd want to watch her sleep. You wish you were there, under those sheets with her. I bet you've thought about it many times, haven't you? I bet it was really hard to lie on that blanket and not just take her. You were doing really well until you fell asleep."

Erik's mask snapped up to look at her. Carlotta stood upright, and smiled. "I could give it to you. I could give you the pleasure of fucking me. I could make you forget about her, and you wouldn't need to charm me with birds and bracelets."

The mask rotated up to look at her, and Carlotta felt a special kind of pleasure from the way she could see it tremble. "_You think that is what I want_?" He asked, his voice full of fire and ice.

"Of course. I can't imagine it being easy being the single most unloved creature on the planet." Carlotta said, pursing her lips as she smiled. "These games you're playing with the girl, it's just to distract her from the mask. Don't think people haven't noticed. And don't think for a second that Christine doesn't notice it. You wouldn't have that problem with me, you know." She sniffed as she turned back towards the windows, and walked over the minibar to find a glass. "I'm not interested in you, just what you are. Which is a famous freak."

"What is it you want?" Erik asked, standing up. "I will give it to you without question if you stop this madness."

"Madness?" She said, slyly looking up at him, smirking as she knelt before the bar. She stood up, turning the tumblr in her hands. "This is _justice_."

"Justice?" Erik asked, angrily stepping forward. "If you think that anything you say or do here is justified, then I pity you. Five years, Carlotta, you have wasted, when you could have-"

"_No_!" Carlotta shouted, and held the glass out in one hand, her index finger pointed accusingly at Erik. "Five years _you_ have wasted. _You_ destroyed everything I had been working for. Five years I've waited, for this very moment. Five years, and I will not be denied the view of watching everything you hold dear come crumbling down."

"Just tell me what you want, Carlotta!" Erik argued, turning away from her in anger, walking about as he pressed a hand to the mask's forehead.

"I want my future back!" Carlotta screeched, throwing the glass tumblr at the large golden mirror, watching as both the mirror and the tumblr shattered, a few pieces dropping to the floor. Erik watched the mirror fall apart, his mask drifting down to stare at the floor, his back to Carlotta as she stood before the windows, his chest heaving. "I want everything you _took_ from me."

"I took nothing. You are just overreacting. It was a few months of recovery, and you were fine." Erik growled. "As I recall, your voice still sounds as though it needs training." Erik said, turning to look over his shoulder at her. "Something I offered, by the way, without demanding payment. If anything, _you_ owe _me_."

"Is that how you see it?" Carlotta asked in disbelief. "_You're_ the victim? Of _course_, I should have seen this coming. It's _never_ the criminals' fault, it's _always_ the victim's fault. Not this time, _no_, the only reason why I didn't talk to the media is because I wanted to deal with you myself. Monsters like you, who prey on young girls, deserve to be punished. You're the worst kind of human being, _fuck_, I wouldn't even call you _human_. You deserve to _die_."

Erik sighed, and rolled his head back, so the mask was aimed to the ceiling. He didn't say anything, he ws just thinking, and Carlotta hoped he was thinking long and hard about what he had done, not only to her, but to the world. "Carlotta, what I did then...It was wrong, so very wrong of me to do that to you. It was cowardly and monstrous. There's nothing I can do to ever make up for it, and I regret having done it in the first place. I know I will not have your forgiveness, I do not even deserve it, but I offer my apologies. I can't begin to imagine what pain you are in, what pain you have been in, since that night."

Carlotta sneered as she got herself another glass, pouring herself a drink as she watched as Erik turned around. "Oh Christ, what _has_ that girl _done_ to you? If you think a few sweet words will placate me, then you are sorely mistaken."

Erik shook his head. "Tell me Carlotta, tell me what I can do to make you leave? What is it you want from me?"

Carlotta watched him. This was it. This was the final breath before the dive. The final push, the last step, and it was more glorious than she had imagined.

"You say you can't imagine the pain that I feel. Tonight, I want you to feel that pain. Of someone taking something you've always wanted away from you."

Carlotta couldn't keep the smile from her face as she strode over to the bedside table, and lifted a large brown envelope up, holding it out to him.

"I think you'll recognize this." She said coldly. "It makes for an interesting conversation piece at least."

Erik coldly took the envelope from her, and opened it up, to pull out a few large glossy photos. He stared at them, and Carlotta could pulse her blood pulse as Erik held his breath, his hands beginning to shake.

"How did you get these photos?" He asked, lowering his hands and staring at her. "Who gave them to you?"

Carlotta knew he would be upset, but she hadn't expected the calm she felt emanating from him. "Joseph Buquet, who else? You've had dealings with him before. I was honestly surprised that he'd never released the whole video but he said he was waiting for the right moment. Of course you know that he meant the right payment, but-"

"Video?"

"Yes," Carlotta said sweetly. "It's a video. These are just a few frames from the original I have. I bought it from him, and it wasn't cheap either. I did get a discount for promising him an exclusive interview when we start dating-"

"_Dating_?!" Erik asked, appalled, as he strode forward. "You think I would _date_ you?!"

"Not willingly. But yes, I do think that." Carlotta said, leaning forward to snatch the photos out of Erik's hand, and stared at them, turning them over to look at them properly. She tilted her head to one side and frowned. "You will be lonely, when Christine leaves."

"She is not going anywhere!" Erik gritted from between his teeth, struggling to hold back his emotions.

"But she has to." Carlotta looked up at him. "Haven't you figured it all out yet?"

Erik didn't say a word. He looked at the photos, and then at her. Carlotta groaned, and thrust the photos at him. He stared at them, and slowly looked up.

"_No_." He whispered, the realization of what she wanted finally getting to him.

Carlotta chuckled. "You don't have a choice. Get _rid_ of her."

"I won't..." His voice began to waver, and she could hear his rapid breathing as he clenched and unclenched his hands. "_I won't_."

"If you don't," Carlotta whispered, walking around the bed to stand before him, the ice in her drink almost as cold as the ice in her stare. She was so breathless, tremors ran up her spine. It was _wonderful_. "Then I'll have this video uploaded to Christine's channel. Won't that be something for her followers to find? She'll see it, that's the general idea, but the whole world will know about you, Erik. And they'll think she uploaded it. I wonder if that would ruin the saintly vestal virgin image she has going on about her. It's sickening, really. She acts so high and mighty, but she's just a child. Whoever marries that girl will have to play the father as well as the husband."

Carlotta reached down, and took his gloved hand. He struggled against her touch, but she managed to lift it, and forced the photos into his hand. They were crooked, slightly crumpled, but to Carlotta, they were beautiful.

"She leaves. You announce your break-up with her, and then I will finally have what was always rightfully mine." She sighed happily. "My future. And you're going to help me with it. You're going to write me an album. You will do whatever I say. You will beg at my feet for mercy. Or Christine's reputation will be ruined."

Erik took a few breaths, and the mask glinted in the fading sunlight. He looked out of the window. "And what's to stop me from killing you?"

Carlotta smiled, and took a sip of her drink. "The fact that if something happens to me, then everything gets forwarded to Christine, from a third party. If they don't hear from me at least once a day, with my password, then they know what has happened and what they must do. Someone you're both close to, I might mention. She'll even find out about the camera in her room downstairs. And something tells me you're willing to do anything to stop Christine from finding _that_ out. Although, my plan would still work even if I didn't know about the camera, you _voyuer_, you."

Erik breathing began to increase, getting harder and faster as he looked around, struggling to come up with a single word. Carlotta stepped back to admire the view, clasping her hands together in the form of a prayer as she held them to her lips. It was perfect. Just _perfect_! She only wished he had the face of a real man, so that she could see the pain in his eyes, but his voice was a good enough medium to convey his feelings.

"You... You _evil_..."

"Ah, ah, do you _really_ want to start our relationship on such a bad start?" Carlotta said, mockingly, before taking a sip.

"I _won't_!" He cried, staggering over to the corner of the bathroom wall, where it jutted out. He grabbed the corner, and leaned against the wall, placing a hand over the mask's face. "I won't leave her..."

"You have to, Erik. You never really thought it would turn out like you wanted, did you?" Carlotta said, taking in his strange behavior. She had never believed that she would see Erik Destler, of all men, _cry_ over a woman. It hit her. "You _did_... You thought you had a future with her! Oh how sweet! How totally _adorable_, you thought you could make her _love_ you."

Carlotta doubled over, laughing. This was too good to be true! To him to think that he could charm the poor girl into thinking she loved him, it was preposterous! Erik spun around, clutching her around her throat, each finger tightening around her, but there was nothing he could do. It was beyond the point of no return. Carlotta could hear his pathetic moaning, but it only made her heart colder. Carlotta struggled to stay focused, battling off her subconscious as the lack of oxygen threatened to turn everything black. She was only aware of Erik's crying and her laughter. She needed to see it through. Erik wouldn't kill her, he couldn't risk, it, and they both knew that she had won.

Erik released her, and ran from the room. Carlotta dropped to the floor, choking as she massaged her neck, laughing hysterically as she turned onto her back, wheezing and choking, as she stared skywards, and gulped down as many breaths as her sore, raw throat could take, and whispered one thing to heavens above.

"For you, _Mama_."

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	57. Chapter 57

**_Gilbert O'Sullivan's 'Alone Again (Naturally)'_**

_To think that only yesterday  
I was cheerful, bright and gay  
Looking forward to well wouldn't do  
The role I was about to play  
But as if to knock me down  
Reality came around  
And without so much, as a mere touch  
Cut me into little pieces  
Leaving me to doubt  
Talk about God and His mercy  
Or if He really does exist  
Why did He desert me in my hour of need  
I truly am indeed_

_ Alone again, naturally_

* * *

Erik had barely managed to even make it to Christine's hotel room, staggering down the stairs, his hands pressed to his mask as he tried to block out the warring voices in his head. He was crying, tears rolling over the malformed bumps on his cheeks as his whole body twitched and jerked about, and his whole body was trembling as he reached Christine's door. He collapsed against it, taking what little comfort he could find as he slunk down to the floor and rested there for a moment. He needed to see Christine, he needed to see her happy, smiling face, but it was impossible. Simply being near her things gave him a strange sense of relief, just knowing she had occupied that space behind him, it eased his breaking heart. Carlotta's words... she couldn't possibly mean it? No-one would take her seriously, no-one would believe it. Erik dug his fingers into his chest, over his heart, as he tried to control the hushed moans escaping from his lips, before anyone came out to inspect where the awful noise was coming from.

When Erik had entered the room, he has hoped that his presence would terrify Carlotta. Now that he didn't have Christine around him, he was not afraid to use his full spectral appearance and his nefarious personality to scare Carlotta away. At the party, he had held himself back, for fear of Christine's disapproval, but now that they were both alone, he would enjoy frightening the toad that scared his Christine. When he saw the flickering images on her laptop however, Erik felt an icy cold grip on his entire body, as he watched as he and Christine flickered on and off the screen. Carlotta had been spying on the both of them, and for who knew how long. He had glared at Carlotta, and found her brown eyes were wild, and the animalistic hunger he saw there told him that she had plenty more to show him. Her lips, however told a different story.

Erik stayed outside Christine's room, resting his back against it as he held his head in his hands. It was ridiculous, what she was proposing, it was madness! Carlotta had admitted to knowing about his camera in Christine's room, she even showed him stills from... and even Carlotta's screeching couldn't have blocked out the screaming in his head. If Carlotta knew, then who else knew? Who had told her? It did not matter, whoever it was, they would pay dearly for the cost of their mistake. Carlotta cooed more disgusting words to him, each syllable sickeningly sweet. She had echoed his own words to Nadir from a few hours ago, and Erik stared at her, his eyes wide with fear. He tried not to listen, but every word she spoke was truth. He was a freak, a pervert and it was all with the vain hope of winning Christine over to him. Carlotta was right. There was no chance for him. He was a lonely, unloved monster, who had no chance of ever being truly loved.

Erik got himself up off the floor, panting heavily as his mind threw together a mix of running emotions, each one more dangerous than the last. Above all, he desired to kill. Kill Carlotta, and remove the mess she had made, but her promises of Christine finding out his past, even if they were just empty threats, he could not risk it. It would be easy to kill her, he wouldn't even regret it, but Christine would be in danger if he did, and she would be lost to him forever.

Who am I trying to kid? She is lost to me now. No matter what I do, she will never love me. Erik thought miserably, wandering down the hallway, disappearing into the fire exit stairwell. I can't protect her from the truth, but she cannot find out. Not until I know she can forgive me. Not until I can make her love me.

It was a stupid thought. He could never make her love him, and with Carlotta's insane demands, he would never seen see her again. Carlotta had been so angry, so irrational and crazed, it was hard not to believe her when she threatened to show Christine the anyone had managed to grab footage of him without his knowledge with a complete mystery, but it was Nadir who should have had it destroyed. Nadir had sworn to help Erik remove anyone or anything that would link Erik to Iran, but apparently this one piece of damning footage had managed to escape.

Damn you Nadir. Erik thought angrily, as he slipped through the lobby, his lips twitching and curling as he managed to evade Ms. Giry's attention, though her daughter had seen him, and tried to point him out as they both stood behind the reception desk. Erik scrambled into the lack of the limousine, and tore off his mask, gasping for breath as he threw the mask onto the various cushions and blankets, watching through blurry eyes as the front half of the mask stared up at him. Erik pressed his fingers to his eyes, taking deep, harsh breaths as he tried to figure out what to do.

"Sir, do you wish to return to your apartment?" Asked the driver, his crackly voice echoing around the limousine as he spoke over the intercom.

"You will stay silent and wait for my command." Erik shouted, jamming his finger angrily down on the intercom button, and he knew that the man would not disturb him again.

Erik slowly withdrew his hand. Was it him? Did he tell Carlotta about the camera in Christine's room? Carlotta had said it had been someone close to the both of them. No, how could he have known? He was a driver, that was all, he knew nothing other that what Erik had allowed him to see. Erik pulled himself away from the intercom, and buried his face in his hands once more, before he crumbled and broke down into tears. He could feel everything, though it burned him to remember the distortion of his face, and he wished he could have heard Christine's voice, for only a second, to comfort him, to tell him everything would be alright, but it wouldn't, everything was so wrong and his mind raced as he tried to hold onto the one good thing he had ever been given. He tried to sort through his jumbled thoughts, but the dark voices in his head were screaming, and Erik's head felt as though something was banging against the inside of his skull, trying to get out. He had a headache beginning to form, his lungs were threatening to give up, and his whole body was racked with the horrible realization that Erik would have to say goodbye to Christine, to never see her again.

No, no, please. Please, I can't watch her go. I need her. I need her, oh God, if she was to leave, then I would die. Erik burst out into tears again, and with trembling fingers, he reached out for the blanket they had laid on, and brought it to his lips. If she would only love me. I would be the happiest man in the world. I would give her the world, I would give her whatever she wanted.

Erik sobbed again, and brought the blanket closer to his face, to rub it against his sore skin.

Oh, Christine.

Erik had hoped that he could heal any wounds with his words, before having to turn his voice on Carlotta. He wanted to be good, and pure, like Christine, and her words had come to him, amongst the many voices in his head. Her voice was clear, a ringing bell amongst the chatter, but it did not comfort him as he had hoped.

I know you're angry with her, but you must forgive her. She had said. The pain and anger will never pass unless you let it go.

He had tried to forgive Carlotta for her actions, and he had tried to apologize for his own actions, but Carlotta did not want to hear it. It had been useless, her anger and her suffering overwhelming everything else. Five years of her twisted, insane logic, blaming him for her own misfortunes. Carlotta was correct in blaming him, but to carry the pain for so long, Erik only knew how well evil thoughts could manipulate the mind, consuming everything until all burned away, leaving only dust, loneliness and anger. In her anger, she had found his one weakness. Christine. How Carlotta had been planing to manipulate him before Christine had appeared in his life, he wasn't sure, but she had waited until the perfect moment. He should have anticipated this, over the years, he should have seen Carlotta coming a mile off, but how could he have known? He had not seen or heard from Carlotta since that night in his apartment, not until he had seen her at Victoria Mayner's party, and even then, she hadn't stayed for long.

Erik shakily pulled out his phone, and began to text Nadir. He had been about to type his order to Nadir, to take Christine out of his apartment, but he could not. To force Christine to leave, when she would only complain and protest, it was enough to make him weep once more. And where would Christine go? Erik could not let her return to her room, not while Carlotta prowled about one floor above her. But she could not stay there either.

I must send her away. I must make her leave and I must not cry in front of her. Oh, Christine. If only...

He could not make her stay another day, not if he was to save her from the horrors that Carlotta would force on her. Christine would be hurt, she would hate him for what he was about to do, but she would understand, with time, and she would move on. Maybe now, she could pursue that boy of hers. She might not want to at first, but Raoul would look after her. He could trust that with the undeserving child. He did not deserve her any more than Erik did, but at least there was no-one threatening to ruin Christine's world through any of his secrets and lies. If only he could tell Christine, how much she meant to him. How much his heart had healed because of her, how much he had changed because of her beauty and her understanding.

Erik carefully wiped away his tears, using the blanket he had been holding to his ugly face, and he gathered it all in his lap as he stared down the cushions, feeling numb all over as he repeated Carlotta's words in his head. They were loathsome, greedy and so gleeful. Carlotta had been so overjoyed to see him suffer because of them.

She leaves. You announce your break-up with her, and then I will finally have what was always rightfully mine. My future. And you're going to help me with it. You're going to write me an album. You will do whatever I say. You will beg at my feet for mercy. Or Christine's reputation will be ruined.

It was his fault. Everything was his fault. He knew no good things ever lasted, but he had hoped, oh how he had hoped. He had hoped that Christine would ask him to let her stay. He had hoped that she would never ask about his past. He hoped she would never see under his mask. He hoped she would give me more kisses. He hoped she would bake him more treats, and let him feed her, and hold her, and love her - Oh! If he could be allowed to love her, he would have sworn his undying loyalty to the entity men called God. But still, to end his relationship with Christine, it was too much to ask of him. He could not give Christine up, not for all the diamonds in the world. He had become a drug far more appealing than morphine, an intoxicant that consumed him, body and soul. She was his other half, she completed him, she was his every opposite, the light to his darkness, the elation to his misery. What would become of her if he forced her to leave? Would she be upset, or relieved?

You tricked her. You played with her like some toy, and you think she would be happy? How foolish.

Erik covered his ears, whimpering. He wouldn't listen to his demons. But they were right. Christine had dedicated herself to him, promising her voice to only him, and now he was abandoning her. She wouldn't understand, she'd be so confused and hurt. Christine would break. She would break and it would be his fault. Erik had to get her out of his apartment, she would have to stay at Nadir's, until he could find the words to tell Christine, to make her understand. She had to understand why she could never see him again. But it wouldn't matter. She would still see the news reports of him and Carlotta, she would think he had used her, taken his fill and dumped her.

Erik sniffled, pulling a handkerchief out of his jacket to wipe away any more tears that had managed to leak from his drooping eyelids, and blow his nose, before picking up his phone once more to call Nadir. The phone rang a few times, but Christine answered.

"Erik!" She laughed. "Are you coming home?"

Erik closed his eyes, her laughter the sweetest torture he had ever known. Home. If she could call it home, then how could he take it away from her? She would be smiling right now. She'd be curled up on his couch, waiting for him. She was hoping he could come home. He could hear Nadir's voice in the background, and something brushing over the receiver as he took the phone from her.

"Erik? Forgive me, I was just in the kitchen. Is everything alright with the client?"

Erik sighed, and whispered. "No. You must get Christine out of my apartment. Please, she must spend the night at yours, she cannot go back to the Winchester."

There was no reply, but Nadir's voice, slightly muffled, rang out, "Christine, please excuse me for a moment."

"Of course. Is everything alright?" Christine replied lightly, and Erik listened to Nadir's reply, trying to hold in his tears.

"Yes, I shall only be a moment, you carry on watching, I'll just be a minute."

It was strange, listening to Nadir walk around his home, into his kitchen. Erik could tell from the change of surface that Nadir now walked across, the oak flooring of his living room sounding vastly different to the tiling on the kitchen.

"Erik? What has happened?"

"Promise me, Nadir. Keep Christine at yours, for tonight. Tonight, I must think." Erik said, though it was a lie. Erik didn't need to think, he knew that Christine would be leaving, but he couldn't bear to look her in the eyes and tell her. Tomorrow morning. I shall tell her tomorrow morning.

"Erik? What did Carlotta say?"

"Please, Nadir, I'm begging you. Christine cannot be there when I return." Erik pleaded. "Just don't take her back to the Winchester."

"Is Carlotta still there?"

"Yes. I... she... she has something." Erik cried, his hands trembling again as flashes of the photos appeared in his mind.

"What? What does she have?"

"Please..." Erik broke down again, hiding his face in his hands. "Please... Nadir..."

"Erik? Erik? Tell me how to fix this. Please, Erik, as your friend, tell me how I can help..."

"I love her so much...she can't just..."Erik sobbed, before he dropped his phone onto the cushions, his eyes closed as he tried to hold back the mounting pressure behind his forehead, the rising swell of heat and shame that threatened to give him a migraine. He looked down through bleary eyes at the phone, as it rested on the red velvet in the back half of his mask, which was digging into his shins. The phone was lit up, and Erik could see Nadir's screen typed neatly across the screen.

"Erik? Erik?"

Erik couldn't pick up the phone, he couldn't bear to speak to anyone. This was... This his fault. He hadn't had brought Erik the music awards, if Nadir hadn't left him alone, if Nadir hadn't ...

Then he would never have met Christine. His lovely, angelic Christine, who admired him for his music, his pleasing words. She only wanted to hold his hands. She only wants to brighten up his bedroom with crystals. She only wanted to bake him brownies with his name on so no-one else could claim it. She only wanted him. God only knew why she would want him. God only knew how he had managed to please the captivating angel who danced before his eyes. And now, now, it was all ruined. This whole week, it was to end this way? After all of the hard work he had done to make sure Christine see him differently from how he saw himself? Why had this been allowed to happen? Why had he been given a glimpse of happiness, only to have it taken away from him?

Erik picked up the phone, and hung up. His mind was clear now. He knew what he had to do. He would prepare everything, so Christine would never have reason to fear again. He would protect her, even if she never saw him, even if he never spoke to her. She had to be looked after, she had to know that she meant everything to him. Erik began making his calls, after ordering his driver to head for his apartment. He would handle everything, and Christine would be safe. Safe from Carlotta, safe from the media, safe, even, from him.

But he would be alone. It would just be he and his demons, with no-one to save him.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one**

**Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Every single review makes me want to sing and dance and go crazy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	58. Chapter 58

**_Karmin's 'Brokenhearted'_**

_This is more than the typical kind of thing_  
_Felt the jones in my bones when you were touching me,_  
_Didn't wanna take it slow_  
_In a daze, going crazy, I can barely think_  
_You're replaying in my brain, find it hard to sleep,_  
_Waiting for my phone to blow_

_Now I'm here in a sticky situation_  
_Got a little trouble, yep and now I'm pacing_  
_Five minutes, ten minutes, now it's been an hour_

_Don't wanna think too hard, but I'm sour_

_I can't seem to let you go_

_See, I've been waiting all day_  
_For you to call me baby_  
_So let's get up, let's get on it_  
_Don't you leave me brokenhearted tonight_  
_Come on, that's right_  
_Honest baby, I'll do anything you want to_  
_So can we finish what we started_  
_Don't you leave me brokenhearted tonight_  
_Come on, that's right, cheerio_

* * *

When Erik left her side, Christine felt hollow. It was silly, she had never been so dependent on anyone other than her father, and when _he_ had left, she had learned to stand on her own two feet. It was as though, with his absence, Christine couldn't think clearly, or things that seemed so normal before, looked strange in her eyes. After leaving the botanical gardens, Erik had graciously allowed her to stay in his apartment until his return, and Christine had been excited with the thought of being alone with Erik in his apartment. Before, it had been different, they were both still getting used to each other, and in some ways, they still were, but now, Christine felt she had the courage to express herself, to come clean to tell Erik how much she admired and adored him. How much she loved him. She wanted everything to be special, for it to be the most memorable thing ever. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, she was afraid of becoming deaf and as she inspected the wall that would reveal the elevator to Erik's apartment, she wondered if she would ever lose that feeling.

It could easily have just been infatuation, a reaction to Erik's constant attention to her, but Erik had managed to capture her heart in only a few days, whereas most guys didn't even make her think of them outside of their dates. Now, her whole world had been consumed by Erik, and if she was honest, it terrified her. She was scared of being hurt, she was scared that she was no-one outside of Erik. In only 5 days, Erik had brought a whole new person out of her, he had compelled her to sing, and the thought of Erik rejecting her was too much to bear. It must have been love. It was scary, and new, and wonderful and exciting but mostly just nerve-wracking. Never before had Christine's body felt so out of control, she had never known what it was like to feel her stomach twist with jealousy, or to feel her knees shake from the sound of someone's voice. It must have sounded mad, but the feelings Erik inspired in her made her think she could have been a ballet dancer in another life, just dancing and spinning and laughing and crying; Her body had never moved in such a graceful way before. It was crazy, Christine had no words to describe the way he made her feel. She wasn't even sure how she would explain it to Erik, but she had already begun to form a speech in her head. Nadir had said that he would think she was messing with him, but maybe, if she set the right mood, and explained herself thoroughly instead of just blurting out the words, then maybe he would understand that their feelings were the same.

She had waved to the limousine as it pulled out of the underground driveway, though she doubted Erik could even see her, and she had turned around to Nadir, with the largest grin on her face, as Nadir tried to explain how the elevator worked. He didn't sound very confident, and he kept replacing what should have been technical words and phrases with his own words. Christine held back her amused smile, and tried to press him further, teasing him as he scrunched up his face as he was in deep thought. Christine could see that Nadir was trying to remember whatever he could, but it must have come up blank, as he simply shushed her and led her into the waiting elevator, making Christine laugh once more.

"So, are you going to do what I think you're going to do?" Nadir said, sniffing.

Christine looked up meekly. "Yes."

Nadir sighed, and studied her seriously for a moment. "I thought you were going to wait."

"I was..." Christine murmured. "Well, I wanted to, but this is the perfect moment. Me and Erik alone, in his apartment. I mean, I thought you got that when I hinted earlier-"

"I did get it, but I don't understand it. I don't remember love being this difficult to control." Nadir mused.

Christine beamed. "Do you have someone special in your life? Who are they? You've never mentioned them."

Nadir turned to look at her, his eyes boring into hers, and Christine lost her smile as Nadir sadly smiled at her. "I did. A long time ago. Her name was Amira. She died."

Christine cringed with embarrassment. If only she knew exactly when to keep her mouth shut. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's quite alright, Christine. You didn't know." Nadir turned to look straight ahead. "I think... I think if I had known how long I had left with Amira, I would have told her I loved her everyday. She'd been so breathless, you see, and I... I tried to pretend that it wasn't happening. Then she started coughing and I just put it off to a cold. It couldn't happen to her, I thought. She was my wife, and bad things happened to other people. I made her rest, and I thought she would be better. I went to work, as usual. I usually went days without seeing her, sometimes weeks."

Nadir paused, and looked down at her, his eyes shakily coming to focus on her own, and Christine took his hand. He smiled weakly, and continued. "I think, before you go, you should tell him. Tell him a thousand times."

"Oh, _Nadir_." Christine murmured, wrapping her arm around Nadir as she continued to hold his hand, brushing her cheek against his shoulder. Nadir sighed, and squeezed her hand.

They stood in silence until the doors opened, and together, they walked down the long red and white corridor that led to Erik's door. Nadir unlocked the door, and allowed Christine enter first. She looked around, before dropping her purse onto the coffee table. The whole apartment seemed to large and empty without him. She had never realized how big it was, and how alone it made her feel. Standing in the sunlight that passed through the rose windows, her body covered in hundreds of small little blocks of colour, she felt as though she was as divided as the glass pieces in the mosaic that loomed above her. Staring at the window, it inspired so many emotions in her, each one so loud and demanding. It gave her a very unusual, but pleasing idea.

She twirled around, plastering a grin on her face as she told Nadir, "I'm going to make us dinner."

Nadir pulled a surprised face. "Really, Christine?"

She nodded. "Yeah, why not? I've had roses and chocolates and jewellery, why shouldn't we add a romantic dinner to that list?"

Nadir rolled his eyes. "I think that should be obvious. Erik won't want to remove his mask in front of you, so you'll be the only one eating."

Christine wiggled her eyebrows as she grinned. "_Not_ if we eat in the dark! All we have to do is cover up the window, dress up the coffee table a little, and it'll be great! We can hold hands, enjoy some good food, and then, when we're holding each other on the couch, I can tell him everything."

She left out the part where she hoped Erik would kiss her. She was desperate to feel their lips together, and she hoped that Erik felt that way too. If he forgot himself, for just one moment, then maybe he would give in and just _kiss_ her. Then, there would be no more reason to hide himself from her, she'd feel everything and... It was wrong to think that. She did _want_ to see his face, but she didn't want to force the decision for him. She couldn't explain the curiosity that she felt, and sometimes, she wondered how bad it really was, but she would never presume to think she knew what she was doing. True, she had met a few customers working at Edward's Bright Idea who had had some conditions, but none of them had been severe enough to warrant a mask. She had never heard of anyone having to wear a mask because of a birth defect.

Nadir interrupted her line of thoughts, and mused, "It does sound romantic, but I do not think it would work. He would be too wound up. He'd never be able to relax."

Christine frowned sadly. "You don't think he'd like it?"

"I think he would like to, but I think it would be better to wait until after you've told him your feelings. Perhaps tomorrow."

Christine smiled, and held her fingers to her lips. Tomorrow. It seemed so far away. At least until then, she could make-believe that they would get to kiss. It seemed like a lifetime away. She nodded, and released the breath she hadn't even known she had been holding.

"Do you want something to drink? I think Erik's got some vintage wine that we should let breath, at least." Nadir said, making his way behind the couch, along the bookshelves to the kitchen.

"I don't really like wine, but don't let me stop you." Christine said, distractedly.

She sat herself down on the couch, crossing her legs as she stared at her hands in her lap. It wasn't wrong to to want to kiss him, it was perfectly natural for people in a relationship to do such things, and it was normal to want to see his face, but she had never really considered what it would mean if she _did_ see his face. It would be taking their relationship to a whole other level. It was one thing to say 'I love you', and it was another to see what hid beneath the mask. And even then, there was no knowing what she would be looking at. If only Erik had described something other than his eyes. She felt that if she could at least imagine in it in her mind, then it would be easier for her to handle when the time came for Erik to remove his mask.

Her father had said that anything could be made ugly and anything ugly could be made beautiful, if it was put in the right light. He had always been full of little lessons, he had quotes for every day of the week, every week of the year. He would always try to instill the seven heavenly virtues in her, though Christine sometimes used to wish she could give in to one of the seven deadly sins instead. She didn't mind, in truth, it was the smile on his face whenever he quoted Ghandi that made her want to be a better person, not the virtues or the quotes. She missed him. She missed the way he would read to her stories from around the world, from books of all types. She wished she could hear his voice again. She knew what he would say now. He would say that beauty was a light that came from within, and he would be right. Erik had a kind of beauty that no-one else could see, and she supposed that she could see it only because of the mask. At least she could say honestly that she loved him for him, and not for his looks.

Her father wanted her to be happy, and to spread that happiness. The years she had with him, had been the happiest because of him. He had taught her to be compassionate towards her fellow human, to give and never take, to think of others before herself and to be patient, and after years of his doctrine being programmed into her, even after his death, it made her wonder if she _was_ strong enough to give Erik what he wanted.

What if she was not enough for him? What if, despite their love, she was not the woman that he needed? Was it selfish of her then, to tell him how she felt? If there was someone much better suited for him, someone stronger, then would it be greedy to keep him all to herself? He was a man of many talents, he should have been sharing them all with the world, but instead he hid here, in his apartment, because he thought it would keep him safe from other people. If there was someone else who could bring Erik out of his shell, then was it not right that Christine bow out? What if Erik only clung to her because she had been the only woman to give him the time of day? It hurt Christine to think about it. She did not want to hold him back, and she did not want him to leave. It was torture, just trying to figure out what she should do.

"Christine?" Nadir called from the kitchen. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Christine replied, twiddling her thumbs as she pursed her lips. "I'm just thinking about Erik."

She could hear him chuckle, and it made her smile. What was she worrying about? There was no other woman, and she could, no, she _would_ be strong for him. She would move mountains and part seas to make him happy, and she would show him that there was no need for the mask around her. It didn't matter what he looked like, just as long as he loved her, and treated her kindly. She would kiss him no matter what he looked like, and she would love him, no matter what she saw. He wasn't his face, and there was nothing truly to be scared of. It wasn't as though it would hurt her in any way.

Nadir stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a glass of what looked like champagne, and another glass filled with a plum coloured substance that she supposed was the wine. He handed her the gold drink, her silver bracelets clinking lightly against the stem of the glass and he smiled before taking a sip of his.

"It's apple juice." He said, and Christine smiled, taking a sip. "Do you want me to put something on for you?"

Christine shook her head. "Actually, I really should be using this free time to work on my videos. I wish I had my laptop with me, but it doesn't matter. You put what you like on, I'm not fussed."

Christine dug around her purse, and pulled out a tiny little notepad the size of her little finger with a pen to match, and she started to sketch out a few ideas, while Nadir sat himself down beside her. He browsed through a few channels, occasionally stopping to watch an advert or some scene that interested him, but he soon settled on CNN, and watched it every now and again whenever there was breaking news as he played with his phone. Christine supposed it just made for background noise, as neither of them were talking much. Occasionally, Christine would look up at the TV, but it never managed to keep her attention for long. The Americans accents were fun to listen to, but the topic for discussions just flew over her head. Nadir seemed to follow it though, and he seemed to understand everything. It could have just been that she was British, anyone would forgive her for not understanding the difference between the various politicians, but it made Christine feel really dumb, and she didn't want to ask Nadir who they all were. She felt as though she should have at least recognized one or two of them, she felt more informed about American culture than her own, but they were all just names and faces to her.

So she stayed silent, not really wanting to look like the uneducated little girl in front of Nadir. She wasn't even really paying attention, as she lost herself once more in her work. She was jotting down a few things she would need to buy to make her next videos, which was usually paint, newspapers and glue so she could make paper mache, but often she found that she didn't need to buy all that much. She was debating though, which subject to do her next video on, it was either going to be another video where she talked about her time in America, or something she had been wanted to which she arrived, which was sample more American treats. So far, she had only had some cereal and some chocolate, but there were other things she wanted to try, such as corn dogs, meatloaf, s'mores and cheesesteaks. She had no idea where to purchase these things, but maybe Erik would be able to help her tomorrow. Christine was a little disappointed that she had not done all the things she had planned to do while she had been here, but being with Erik was a lot more satisfying.

Nadir had left to take their glasses into the kitchen, leaving his phone on the couch beside her, and it had rang, Erik's name flashing up on the screen. She had answered, breathless as she waited for him to answer, but he had been silent. She couldn't even hear him breathing and it was slightly creepy. Nadir had rushed back into the phone and had taken the phone away from her, pressing it to his ear as though it was a bomb. His face wasn't happy when he excused himself, but Christine let it go. Erik was probably just annoyed with the clients he had gone to see, though the whole situation was odd. Erik had seemed to eager to leave her, and she had relented, hoping that whatever had been on his mind was fine by now. He had almost left without saying goodbye to her, he had been distant, and it made Christine speculate what the clients were demanding of him. Nadir wandered back into the room, and retrieved his wallet from the coffee table. He pulled out a card, and began to type something into the phone. He held it to his ear, and she realized that his conversation with Erik was over.

"So what's happening?" Christine asked, as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"I don't know." Nadir said, furrowing his brow as he re-entered the kitchen. "Paul, where are you?"

Was Nadir talking to paul, as in Erik's limo driver? Why would Nadir need to call him to ask him where he was? Was Erik in trouble? It was some time before Nadir returned to the living room. Christine had managed to pay attention to one story on CNN, and it had been nearly twenty minutes until Nadir emerged, staring at her as though trying to gage her reaction. He had removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and was running a tired hand through his hair. Christine narrowed her eyes. Nadir was on edge, looking very unhappy as he searched for the right words to tell her. All she wanted was to know where Erik was, but there must have been something else more important on their minds. Why wouldn't they tell her? The both of them and their secrets!

"Are you sure everything is alright? You don't look very happy." She said. "Is Erik going to be much longer?"

Nadir looked at the floor. "I... don't know."

"What? What is it?" Christine asked. She felt her heart stop. "Erik's okay, isn't he? He's not gotten into an car accident, has he?"

Nadir sighed, and came to sit beside her. "No, but I think the evening is over for now."

"What?" Christine asked. "What does that mean? Is he not coming home?"

"I do not know." Nadir said cautiously. "I think perhaps you ought to come around to my apartment, until we can figure out-"

"What? Nadir, would you just tell me what's going on? Please, is Erik okay?" She asked, taking his hands. "Please tell me."

"I do not know, Christine. He wouldn't say. I think he is upset, and I don't think he would want you to see him in such a state-"

"That's ridiculous! I don't _care_ if he's upset or angry, I just want to know he's okay. Did he say how long he would be?"

"No." Nadir said, and sighed. "I think for now, he would like for you to stay at my apartment until things have settled."

"At your apartment? Why would go to yours? No offense, but wouldn't it just make more sense for me to go back to _my_ hotel?" Christine inquired. She pulled her hands away. Why would Erik not want her to return to her hotel? It didn't seem as though Erik was planning on letting her stay here for the night as he had asked her to stay with Nadir. There must have been something at the Winchester that Erik didn't want her to see.

Christine cast a suspicious glance towards Nadir. Maybe Erik was planning something that meant he needed her hotel. It would explain why Nadir had suggested to have the blind dinner the next night, and it did explain why Erik had practically been anxious after she had left for the toilets back at the botanical gardens. Maybe they had discussed what to do for the evening, and Erik had to get everything ready without her knowing. But why he needed her to stay at Nadir was a mystery. Did Erik mean for her to stay for a few hours, or until she left on Sunday morning? Did Erik need to get her out of his apartment so he could get something? Or was she reading this wrong? What if it was something else, something horrible?

"Nadir..." Christine began, but it wasn't as though she could just ask him outright.

Nadir caught her eyes, and sighed. "Christine. You must be patient with him. Everything will be okay."

"I know." She said. "I trust him. I trust you too. If you say everything will be okay, then I believe you. I don't understand, but I'll go to your apartment if he wants me to. I just hope it's okay with you, I don't want to intrude or anything."

"You wouldn't be intruding, it would be a pleasure to have you as guest. Perhaps my evenings won't be so boring with a sight as lovely as yours-"

The front door opened. Erik was stood there, sniffling as he held onto the door frame. He entered the living room, staggering in towards his bedroom, ignoring the both of them as his breathing became rougher. He had removed his jacket, his shirt's collar missing a few buttons, leaving his neck exposed. He was mumbling something that neither Nadir nor Christine could hear, as his hands were jerking about as he tried to open the bedroom door. Christine stood up, watching as Erik struggled to take hold of the doorknob.

"E-Erik?" Christine stammered.

He halted, his entire body turning to stone. His breathing was the only thing that Christine could hear. Christine took a few steps forward, but stopped when his mask turning as though on an axis, to look at her. He was hunched over, one hand on the doorframe, the other dropping down beside him. He said nothing, just staring at her.

"Erik, it's okay. Whatever it is, it's okay. I'm here." Christine said, taking another few cautionary steps forward.

She felt Nadir's hand on her elbow, holding her back, and she turned to stare at him. She hadn't even heard him get up, but there he was, standing directly behind her, watching Erik with narrowed eyes. He never took his eyes off of Erik as he insisted, "Wait outside."

"No!" Erik cried, and took a few shaky steps towards Christine, but he growled, and clenching his hands into fists, holding them to his mask forcefully, taking a few steps back. "Please..."

"Erik?" Christine wanted to cry, what had happened since he had left her side? "It's okay, it's okay. Whatever it is, we can work it out."

Erik dropped his hands, hanging his head, as he took short, weak breaths. He looked so defeated, so crushed, and Christine wanted to just take him in her arms and never let go, but it was Nadir trying to push her towards the door that stopped her. If Nadir didn't think it was a good idea for her to be in the same room as Erik, then it was probably for the best. Erik was beginning to scare her. He wasn't saying anything, and if he wasn't already crying, then he was close to it. It was breaking her heart to see him this way. She didn't care if she got hurt, she _needed_ to help him through whatever pain he was feeling.

She turned to Nadir, tears in her eyes, and she opened her mouth, but no words would come out. She was so confused, what had upset Erik? Why wasn't she allowed to comfort him?

"Nadir..."

Christine looked up at Erik's moan, and it was as though someone had shot her through the heart.

"Wait outside."

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Every single review makes me want to sing and dance and go crazy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	59. Chapter 59

**_Bread's 'Everything I Own'_**

_You sheltered me from harm_  
_Kept me warm, kept me warm_  
_You gave my life to me_  
_Set me free, set me free_  
_The finest years I ever knew_  
_Was all the years I had with you_

_And I would give anything I own_  
_Give up my life, my heart, my home_  
_And I would give anything I own_  
_Just to have you back again_

_If there's someone you know_  
_That won't let you go_  
_And taking it all for granted_  
_You may lose them one day_  
_Someone takes them away_  
_And you don't hear a word they say_

_And I would give anything I own_  
_Give up my life, my heart, my home_  
_And I would give anything I own_  
_Just to have you back again_  
_Just to talk to you, words again_

_If there's someone you know_  
_That won't let you go_  
_And taking it all for granted_  
_You may lose them one day_  
_Someone take them away_  
_And you don't hear a word they say_

_And I would give anything I own_  
_Give up my life, my heart, my home_  
_I would give anything I own_  
_Just to have you back again_  
_Just to talk to you, words again_  
_Just to hold you, once again_

* * *

No. Anything but this. Anything but the misery of having to send Christine away _now_. Erik couldn't bear it, it was agonizing to see her standing there, with tears already in her eyes. Why was she here? Why did she have to see in this woeful form? He was a mess, so clueless as to the world around him, lost in his mind, his demons laughing gleefully. This was a cruelty Erik was not sure he could endure. He had told Nadir to take her away, so she wouldn't have to see his suffering, so why was she here? Why had Nadir allowed her to stay? He hadn't even realized the two of them were there where he had entered, his mind has been so clouded, so foggy, that he wasn't even sure if he had heard Christine's dulcet tones calling to him. His only thought had been to hide in darkness, to pretend he was not alive, so he would not be forced to endure another second of his miserable, wretched life.

But she was standing in his living room, only a few feet away from him. He would have to confront her now. It would have to make it quick and painless, but he knew it would be anything other than painless. _He_ would feel the pain, for the rest of his life. Christine was a mirage, a terrible reminder that he could not keep anything beautiful. Ugly creatures did not get to hold onto beautiful things. He had been boiling with so much rage at Carlotta, he had angrily torn his collar apart, desperate to feel the cold air hit his skin as he entered his apartment, and he could feel his hairs stand on end as he watched Christine's hurt and confused expression. He looked up at her, begging for her not to really be there. Not when he was like this, he needed her, only she could comfort him, mend and repair his shattered mind but she would only feel pity for him in this disgraceful state. Nadir had jumped up to pull Christine away, ordering her away, and Erik had cried for her to stay, like a child looking for its mother, but it was wrong, he couldn't allow Nadir to be the one to send her away. Erik felt as though he had lost the will to carry on, but he had to be strong. For Christine, for _his_ Christine. She was so beautiful, and so worried for him. She spoke his name, and told him that she was here, but it was a lie! She would never be there for him again, he would be alone, pathetically mourning the loss of the only woman he would ever love.

Erik could feel the string that bound themselves to each other begin to tug and stretch, and he could feel the string wrapped so tightly around his heart pull so forcefully, he swore that it would burst out of his chest and flop to the floor. He wished that it would, anything would be better than the heartache he was now forced to endure. Erik ordered Nadir out, staring at Christine. Her face was trained on him and she was taking the tiniest of steps forward. Nadir released her elbow. She was so close, it made Erik feel sick to think he would never be this close to her again. He would never see her smile again. He would never hear her laughter. He would miss her lips and her hands and her heart. That was what he would miss most of all. Her generous heart. If only it was his.

Erik had silenced him, never removing his eyes from Christine's flushed face. Nadir didn't put up an argument. Nadir could see his depression, Nadir must have heard his unhappiness, and mercifully gave him the room, leaving Erik alone with Christine. Erik jumped forward, and locked the door silently behind Nadir. Nadir, thankfully had not noticed. It would only make it harder for Erik to explain his actions. He could not afford to have Nadir interrupt and rui everything. He didn't know that extent of the damage that Carlotta would do. He would handle Nadir later, make sure that he knew that Erik blamed him, but for now, he had to tend to Christine.

It felt dishonorable to carry on the charade any longer, and Erik had to break the spell she had put him under. The moment he had locked the door, Christine had taken some careful steps forward, and stood before him, looking up at him. Her chest was rising with each breath, to a rhythm Erik couldn't hear. She tried to reach for his hand, but he pulled himself away, walking around her to the other side of the room, to rest inbetween the pond and the kitchen door. He needed to catch his breath, to forget her pleading eyes. The further away he was from her presence, the more he could breathe. It was the furthest point in his room away from her, but it was useless, he would always feel her, no matter how far away. Would he feel her when she was in London? He dropped his head, holding his hands on either side of him, clamping them into hard fists. Damn Carlotta for making him suffer this torture. She would pay.

"_Erik_?" Christine cried, hurt by his actions as she stood motionless in her spot. She was still staring at the place where he had been standing.

Erik felt horrible, he was a monster to treat her as such, but it was for the good of both of them. She would understand, she _would_. She _had_ to.

"Erik, _please_. Let me help you." She said, turning around to face him. Her eyes were glistening, and Erik could see, even from this distance, how much she longed to be beside him. "Tell me what's wrong. How can I _help_ you if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

Erik choked, and dropped his head in his hand, his mask drooping down to stare at the floor. She was too good, too kind for words. She was so fragile, and Erik was now the one to smash it all. "I _can't_."

Christine's face became so strained, her wide eyes begging him to explain as her lips trembled. "Why? Erik, what happened? You... You didn't see any clients, did you?"

She took another few steps closer, stepping around the large chair close to his bedroom, approaching the coffee table, but Erik held out the hand that had been holding his head to stop her. She did so instantly, her curls bouncing around her head, and Erik wished he could kiss those curls. Every step she took was like a dagger to his heart. When would she stop torturing him?

"I...must tell you something Christine." He began slowly, bringing his hands to his mask. He could feel the tears rolling down his face, burning him as he thought of the countless nights he would spending without her. "You, you have been the most wonderful person to me. You've treated me like no other ever has, and I... I admire you greatly-"

"Erik-"

"No, Christine, I must say this." How could he put into words how much he loved her? He would never presume to tell her the three little words he had never been told himself, it would be a burden that he would not force on her. He only hoped that she would not be as heartbroken as he would be. Her tears, even now was killing him. He wasn't even sure if he could speak, his voice sounded awful, he was so weak and helpless, he sounded just like a blubbering baby. What must she think of him? "No-one has ever been as kind to me as you have, not without malice or jealousy. People have always wanted to use me for their own gain, but you... you see me differently. You see the man that I wish I was. I am not that man, Christine. I am a bad man, and evil demon, and you do not deserve to be surrounded in darkness."

Christine held her head high, looking determined as she said, "You're not a _demon_, Erik. You've been raised thinking that you're no good, that you can never have nice things. That's not true. You deserve everything Erik. You mean so much to me."

She took another few steps forward, looking about the floor as she tried to summon the words, her hands fumbling as she gingerly squeezed her fingertips. She stopped as Erik made a small noise, and he took a step back. She was standing at the other other of the coffee table, a little closer to him, and Erik's body tingled as she looked up at him from beneath his lashes. His beautiful Christine...

"Erik, there are things that you don't know about me. And I know there are things you're trying to keep from me, because you think it will protect you, and in turn protect me, but you don't know how much I want to protect _you_."

"Protect me? Christine, you are the one who needs protection. Protection _from_ me. I can't be near you without hurting you, without ruining you. I have to stay away from you." Erik cried, bursting into tears, choking down tears as he suddenly felt so light headed. He could smell her perfume, it was so overwhelming, it was her all over, and he could remember the way she had felt in his arms, the way her lips curled when she slept, her nail polish and his teases. It was driving him mad.

"W-what?" Christine whimpered, her eyes widening.

Erik closed his eyes, begging to God to let him die. It was the end of his world, there was nothing now that would heal his broken heart. It was broken, there was no mistaking that. The dream had finished. Now he could see Christine, trembling as her eyes darted about the floor, comprehending what she had just heard. She raised her hands to her lips.

"Christine. You must go back to London." He forced out.

"No... _No_, what are you _saying_? Why are you saying this?" Christine asked, moving her hands to rest over her chest.

"It's for your own good. I can't keep you." Erik cried somberly. He wished he could hide, he wished he could look away from her silent crying, but if he was never to see her again, then he would memorize every last second he had with her.

Christine covered her face with her hands, and took deep breaths as she wiped away her tears. "No, you don't mean it. You _don't_ want me to go."

"No." He whispered. "But you must."

"Please, let's talk about this tomorrow, please, I promise you everything will be better tomorrow-" Christine said, taking some decisive steps forward.

Erik took more steps back, away from her, she was getting too close, he couldn't breathe without inhaling her scent, the same air he shared with her. Tomorrow, she still thought she had tomorrow. But it wasn't to be, she would have to leave tonight, he would never be able to let her go if she stayed any longer. It was disastrous, it was all falling to pieces and it was because of him. It was his fault, and he deserved the punishment of having to send his Christine away. She was backing him into a corner, both literally and figuratively, and he felt the cold wall press against his back. He sniffed, trying to stop himself from crying. It would not do for Christine to remember him as the freak who cried as he dumped her, but it only made him cry harder. He still had to explain that they would _never_ see each other again.

"Christine," He wailed. "There will be no tomorrow. There will be no more picnics, no more gifts, no more surprises. You will leave, and I will stay. It is the way it has to be."

Christine made a strange choking noise. "Are you... are you breaking up with me?"

Erik closed his eyes. _Yes... I love you, but I cannot keep you. I love you, Christine, so utterly and devotely. I love you more than the moon and stars, you are my everything, you are my music and my reason to live. You taught me to love, wholly and completely. You saved me from my solitude, and I am yours, Christine, now and forever. But we were not meant to be. We were just two comets who happened to collide. Just two lights in the sky, passing by. The time we've spent together, I will cherish it always, but now, you must continue with your path. It was foolish to think I could keep you. You're too beautiful to keep caged. Too innocent to bind yourself to me. _

"Yes." Erik bawled.

"No. You said..." Christine burst into tears, and it was heartbreaking to have to listen to. She hid her face from him. Erik felt as though lightning had struck him, and Christine turned slightly away from him. "You're not _serious_. How can you ask me to _leave_? After everything we've gone through?"

"It's... you must... go back to Raoul, Christine. He will look after you. I have arranged everything, so you will never need worry again. I..." The words he had been planning, they seemed so useless now. It would never be good enough, she had managed to unravel him in so little time.

"Please, I beg of you, whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry." She sobbed. "Please don't make me leave. How can I leave? How can you make me? Can you see what you've done to me?"

"Christine...you must forget me." Erik said watching her closely. He could see, all right. He would never be able to unsee it. "Whatever you do, you must know, that everything I do, has always been, and will always be, for _you_."

She looked up angrily. "No, what you're doing now, this isn't for me. If you knew..._ If you knew_..."

Christine completed her trip and stood before him, taking his wrists. Erik tried to tear them away, but her little hands were holding onto him tightly. He could feel the heat seep through his clothes, the fabric twisting about, rubbing against his skin, and Erik took the pain, because he deserved it. He deserved her anger, her fury, and he would thank her for it. He was a miserable rat, no better than the filth on the streets for hurting his Christine. She would never forgive him. It would be easier that way. But she was bringing up his hands to place his fists against her cheeks. She smiled sadly, sniffling, and Erik's thumbs trembled as they came out from his curled fingers to wipe away her tears. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, and Erik slowly moved his fingers, his skin burning with the wish to remove his gloves and _feel_ her.

How could he live without her? How could he spend each waking day not beside her? How could he continue his dreary existence, knowing that another man would get the chance to love her. Another person would get to touch her skin, to see her eyes, to kiss her lips. They would never love her as much as he would. They would never feel pain when they left her side each evening. They would never feel the same dread whenever she cried. They would kiss her and think nothing of it. They would hold her hand and still want more. They would never be grateful for her, they would never worship her in one minute the way he would for a lifetime. She was so close, another step and she would be in his arms. Couldn't he hold her, just one last time? Just to remember her by? But no, he had to get her out, he was losing the control he had fought so hard to keep. She was driving him into madness, and that small space between them would only ignite the fire in him. Another step, and he would not be able to watch her leave.

Erik couldn't see her face any longer. His tears were blurring his vision, and he cried as he thought of what life would be like without her. Without her happiness, her innocence, her purity to save him. He was damned, and he had to pay for his sins. This was his punishment. To live in a world without love. Without Christine.

Christine opened her eyes, and looked up at him. She whispered softly, "_Erik_."

Her voice... How he would miss it, the soft accent, her impulsive compliments. He had promised to make her the greatest singer known throughout the world, and he had failed her. And he had only just convinced her to sing? She would be devastated, and she would never sing again. Erik braced himself, those kind of thoughts were threatening to send him down into the descent of madness. If she never sang again, if he was never to hear her perfect pitch.

_Christine. I wish I could convince you to stay. I wish I could tell you. I wish you would love me. God, I swear, if you would only make Christine love me, I promise, I would never do a bad thing again._

Those lips she bore, the pink and shiny fleshy mounds, they were no longer trembling. She looked so blissful, and her eyelashes fluttered momentarily. Her eyes were so beautiful. They were light blue, the colour of the sky in the early morning. They were like ice on a mountain, and they were focused on him.

_No more. No more, Christine, or I shall go mad!_

He had to end it before he couldn't no longer keep his hands from her.

Christine's lips were pursed, but she opened them slowly, as if she was walking in a dream. His Christine, his only love, was inching closer to him. It was too close, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. All he could hear as the single note she had sung in his music room. Grief and shame overcame Erik. How could he have done this to her? He had tricked her with dreams of normality, deceived her when she was blind, promised her the world and he had torn the wings from his angel's back to keep her from falling.

"Erik, I l-"

"_Christine_." Erik sang, pouring his soul into every letter, every syllable, hoping she could hear how much he didn't want to let her go. "Thank you. For letting me pretend."

Christine stared up at him, and Erik could feel the rush of heat that spread to her cheeks. She had heard him sing, for the first, and the last time. He watched as her eyes lost their focus, her body beginning to waver on its spot, her heavy head beginning to droop as she sleepily reached out to take his jacket lapels.

"Erik..." She whimpered, and Erik gently eased her head to his breast, leaning her against him.

"_Christine_." He sang one last time, his voice becoming deeper, more suggestive. He could feel his voice vibrate in his chest, purring. It made Christine sigh happily, and Erik bent his mask to allow her curls to brush against the mask's lips. He didn't need to feel her hair against his skin to know how soft they were.

She moaned softly, and Erik slipped his hand around her waist as she slumped against him, closing her eyes. He held her against him, and his body reacted so distastefully that he immediately picked her up, lifting her off her feet as he cradled her head in the crook of his neck. He could feel her chest against his, and he matched the rhythm of his own breathing to her. They were in time, and Erik felt more tears escape as she slowly fell asleep in his arms. It was miraculous, she was so light to carry, little a little child, and Erik swung his arm under her legs, bringing them up as he could stand tall. He would be strong.

It was an impossibility though. He couldn't be stable and steadfast. He was cracking from the pressure, and he was certain he would lose his mind. He stood for a few moments in silence, cherishing the weight of Christine in his arms. He looked down at her, and saw she was still crying. His beautiful Christine, he would be dead to her when she woke, and there would be more tears. He could not bear the idea of Christine crying because of him. It was best to take her away, _now_.

But he couldn't. Just a little while longer, he told himself. Just another minute. Just another second. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but he soon plucked the courage to slowly wander over the couch, and carefully place her down. She looked so beautiful, it was impossible to describe, there wee no words, and only the fiery music in this soul could communicate everything he wanted to say.

_Christine's Lullaby. She will never hear it._ Erik thought morosely as he wandered into his bedroom.

He needed to remove his mask. He needed clean air, anything, other than the foul, putrid air he was breathing inside his mask. He tore it off, not caring if it smashed or broke, and he buried his hands in his head once more. His face was wet, soaked really, and there were thin trails of his tears running down his neck, like jagged scars. He stared at the floor between his fingers. His knees were shaking, and he fell to the floor, sobbing disgustedly.

Something hit his eye, and he looked up. It was Christine's crystals. They twinkled in the setting sun's light, the warm rosy light filling his room, casting long thin rays of light across his body. It was as though those strips were the bars to the jail cell he was now held in. He stared at the crystals, and a rush of anger came over him. White hot pain rain through him, and all he could was red, the colour of blood and before he knew it, he had strangled the string that held each crystals in his shaking hands, seething with rage at Carlotta, at Nadir, at the world, for giving him a face that no woman would love, His own mother, the one who should have loved him the moment she set eyes on him, even she had rejected him. A mask. All he had never known had been his mask, the first unfeeling scrap of clothing he had ever been given. He stood, and howled as he tore the crystals down, throwing them to the floor, watching as they smashed into a dozen little pieces, each scattering across the floor, under his bed and beneath his desk.

"No_... No, no, no!_" Erik cried, dropping unceremoniously to his knees, and reached out to the shattered pieces with trembling fingers.

_You ruin everything. How can you hold Christine without hurting her? She gives you gifts and you destroy them. She gives you her voice and you throw it away. She gave you her soul and you ripped it from her. You deserve her hate. She should fear and hate you, and you were right to send her away. She would only torment you with her body. You never would have had her. Not completely. _His demons sang. They were happy. Without Christine, he would have to listen to them again.

_No, she would have loved me. If I had a little more time, she would have learned to see beneath the mask, to see me._ _With time, she could have loved me_. Erik argued. _If only I had finished that mask. She said.. She had said she would have loved my mask, no matter what._

He stood up, his eyes drawn towards the open door. Christine would sleep for some time. It was a natural response to those who had never heard him sing before. Nadir had fainted the first time, but Erik had not expected Christine's reaction to be so deep. He opened the top drawer to his desk, and pulled out the messy fabric that formed his mask. It was disgusting, she would never have liked it. He would have looked the fool, and she would have laughed at him. There were two roughly formed eyeholes, for him to look through, and two smaller holes for his nose, and he had selfishly cut out a section, for his lips to peek through. Just a long, thin hole, just big enough for his lips to reach through. He had dreamt of holding a single ringlet to his lips, to feel it against his skin. It was a stupid dream, and one that would never come true.

Erik dropped the fabric, digging his nails into his palms as he picked up the two halves to his mask, brushing away the crystal fragments, closing his eyes as he did so. He did not have time to wallow in self-pity. He had to say goodbye to Christine, and get her on the next plane he that he had arranged for her. He sealed the mask, taking an unsteady breath as he walked back into the living room.

She was still lying there, unconscious, but still an angel. She looked as though she was dead, and she seemed to glow in the fading light, as though the light of heaven graced her form and had lifted her to the pearly gates. She was lying crumpled on his leather couch, and Erik went to join her side, thoroughly in misery. He lifted her body up, carefully, and sat himself down, resting her head in his lap. He was calm. Emotionless. He felt nothing as he stared ahead at the wall in front of him as he struggled to hold his head up. He would not allow himself to feel anything. He would not Carlotta win. He could barely hear Nadir banging around his front door, roaring for Erik to let him in. He looked down slowly, and brushed one or two ringlets away from her face. She was still crying. Would she ever stop? It was breaking his already broken heart to see her so sad.

Erik hung his head and cried, moaning as he lifted her unresisting body, his right arm around her ribs to hold her up, his left hand coming up to rest her face against his neck, and he cried into her hair as the finishing blow hit his mind like a missile, and it finally sunk in.

She was no longer his Christine.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Every single review makes me want to sing and dance and go crazy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	60. Chapter 60

**_Sarah Brightman's 'Only an Ocean Away'_**

_I see a shadow every day and night.  
I walk a hundred streets of neon lights,  
Only when I'm crying.  
Can you hear me crying.  
So many times you always wanted more,  
Chasing illusions that you're longing for.  
Wish I wasn't crying.  
Can you hear me crying._

_There's an ocean between us._  
_You know where to find me._  
_You reach out and touch me._  
_I feel you in my own heart._  
_More than a lifetime._  
_Still goes on forever._  
_But it helps to remember_  
_You're only an ocean away._

* * *

Christine couldn't believe the words she was hearing, it didn't make any sense, and the way that Erik was acting was scaring her. It was a different kind of terror, the kind which made your blood pump faster, the kind of terror that gripped you tight, and cleared your mind of all thought. Her mind was blank as it ran through dozens of likely scenarios. Something had hurt him? He had hurt someone? He was trying not to hurt someone? Any of those reasons could have applied, but all Christine knew was that Erik had chosen to stay away from her. Christine stood in shock, as Erik darted around her body, leaving her to stand and stare at where he had once been. He had chosen to keep away from her, as though she had some disease that he was afraid to catch. He wasn't even trying to take comfort in her. She had promised him that she would always be there, that she would always listen to him and now, it was as though her words meant nothing. She had turned around to see Erik standing at the other end of the room, hidden in the shadows, his head dropped down, clenching his fists angrily. He wasn't angry with _her_, was he? She racked her mind, looking for something that she had said, for something she had done that he would find offense with. Erik had been perfectly fine that morning, apart from when he had woken up but that didn't have anything to do with this. He had been rather wonderful, treating her like a lady, making sure she had eaten and rested. Everything was fine up until... up until the spider.

_My poor Erik,_ Christine cried in her mind._ Is that what this is about? Is that what is tormenting you? Do you know how I wish I could take back my actions, I wish I hadn't jumped out of your arms. I wish I hadn't looked so scared, but Erik, it was just a spider. It wasn't you I was afraid of. I know you think that that if how I would react to you, but I wouldn't! I... I know I wouldn't. I love you Erik. I love you with all of my heart. I... I wish that horrid spider had never appeared!_

She had taken her time, trying to get him to open up, as she slowly tried to creep closer to him, but he was closed off to her, sealed inside a prison of his own making. He was so angry, but the more she looked at him, the more she could see that his anger was not directed at her, but at something else. She wished she could have comforted him, but his stance told her that he did not wish to be anywhere near her. What was it then that held him so far away? What made him fear to even stand close to her? She wished she could know, just so she could understand his pain, but she would have been happy to just comfort him without the knowledge. She just couldn't understand why Erik felt that he couldn't tell her. Then she did understand. It was not about the spider. He had not gone to see any clients. It took her a moment to process that both Erik and Nadir had lied to her in order to hide Erik's true whereabouts that afternoon. Wherever he had gone, it had been important enough to keep it from her. Erik must have gone somewhere that he thought she would not approve of, or met someone he did not want her to know about...

She had tried to ask him, but he instead had begun to talk about her, how he saw her, how she affected him. It confused her. Why would Erik be telling her these things? He said he admired her, but she knew that wasn't how he felt. Was he afraid that she would reject him, he still wasn't afraid of that was he? Was this attempt at confessing his feelings? Christine had to admit, he wasn't doing a very good job of it, but Christine could forgive him, it must have been very scary for him. He had gone on to tell her that she had been the only person in his life to kind him differently, to treat him with kindness, but that had been followed by words that Christine couldn't bear to hear. He spoke of darkness and demons, and Christine knew where this was going. He was trying to convince himself that she shouldn't be around him, that he was no good for her, when it was all pointless. She already loved him, and there were no words that he could say that could tear her away from him. She knew that they had avoided the subject of Sunday morning, when she had to leave, but how could she leave now? Not when he needed her. Not when _she_ needed him as well.

She moved closer to him, she was inching her way over, bit by bit, and he had flinched once he realized how close she had gotten. She had made it halfway across the room, and there were still only a few more steps between them. He had never done that before, and it was killing her, each second slipping by as their unspoken feelings still went unconfirmed. She tried to get him to understand what whatever it was that was hurting him, she could help. He had rejected her words, and instead... and instead he had told her that he, he had to _stay away_ from her.

Christine didn't think she heard those words at first. She repeated them in her head, as though it was on a loop, and for a moment, for a second, she had thought he was _joking_. But his voice, the pain that was there, it _couldn't_ have been a joke. Erik was... he was asking her to leave. He'd carried on, telling her that she had to return to London.

_Erik... I thought... Why is this happening?_ _Did I do something wrong? Or is this something you need to work through? _Christine questioned, hardly able to think clearly. _Please don't make me leave. I want to stay here. I want to stay right beside you and nothing can tell me that it's wrong to want to do so!_

Erik even admitted that he didn't want her to go, but still he was forcing her to leave, to never see him again, and for what? For '_protection_'? What good was protection? She didn't want that, she wanted _him_.

_He just doesn't know. He doesn't know that I love him. If I tell him now, then he'll see that I can stay with him._

She couldn't just let him end it this way, she needed him to see that they could work through their troubles and their pains with each other. It was difficult to plead with Erik for more time with him. Tomorrow, she begged, tomorrow they would discuss this. Tonight, she just had to tell him tonight, that very instant, but his next words chilled her, and she understood that he was _determined_ to make her leave, no matter what she said.

_You will leave, and I will stay_, he had said. And it had clicked in her head. She understood what he was trying to say. He wasn't just asking her to leave. It wasn't like she would just go back to London and see him whenever he was ready to handle whatever it was he was dealing with. He was _leaving_ her. He was breaking up with her. After _everything_ they had done, after the _all_ of the hand holding and the reassurances and the presents and the promises, oh, she hadn't even thought of... She... She had given her _voice to him_. She had offered everything to him, and he was... ignoring it all.

Erik had dared to suggest she return to Raoul, as though it was only logical that she would just fling herself into the arms of another man, and Christine hated him for even suggesting such a thing. How could he? How _could_ he? Why was he throwing her towards another man when _he_ loved her? He loved her, and she loved him, and they were meant to be together. How else could they have met, and fallen in love under such strange circumstances. It had to be fate, and yet Erik was the one defying it. This wasn't protection he was giving her, this wasn't some choice, this was torture! It was torture for him too, and she couldn't understand why he was doing this to the both of them? Neither of them wanted to live without the other, and yet Erik...

He said that everything he was doing was for her, but she couldn't believe him. This _wasn't_ for her, this was... useless. Christine couldn't argue with him any more. He would always think of himself as the evil monster who could not be loved. If she could only show him that it wasn't him, that he was not some freak like his mother had told him. She would make him see it.

She had closed the gap between them, and he had taken her head, softly, so as not to hurt her, and he had wiped away her tears. He loved her. He loved her and it must have been killing him to see her so upset. Then why was he doing this? There must have been some reason, other than that she would be safer without him. Was there someone twisting his arm? What it what Raoul had said to him over the phone? Had Nadir suggested something to Erik? Who, _who_ was it that had convinced Erik that Christine could not stay? Erik would never have willingly let her go, he hated seeing her leave to go back to her hotel, this would have been much worse.

She could feel him, touching her skin, and she had closed her eyes, desperate to remember this feeling. It would all be over, in a second. In a second, he wouldn't be asking her to leave. Not when he knew the truth. Everyone else in the world could say whatever they wanted, but until he heard from her own lips, he would never believe it. She loved him, and she was going to tell him.

She had started off well, but somewhere in the middle, there had been a sound. It was of perfect pitch, and it made her entire body hum along with it. It was sensational, it was exhilarating, and Christien forgot the entire world, just listening to that voice. It was like a choir, it resonated so deeply within her, and she could feel it in the pit of her stomach, down low deep inside her. Christine could have listened to that voice for ages. It was so beautiful she wanted to cry. That voice... it was so regal, so powerful. She had closed her eyes, feeling as though the light of heaven had touched an intimate part of her soul, as though for her whole life, she had never heard another person's voice, as though she had gone decades without knowing the truth, the truth about music, about how it could consume you, how it could set fire to people's souls, or how it could defeat them in seconds. That voice... Wherever it had come from, it had sang her name and Christine wonder how Erik's name would sound...

Erik.

She was mildly aware that she had spoken his name, but she knew nothing else. She tried to reach out for him, to look for him through the blinding beauty of the voice she had heard. She couldn't open her eyes, they were too heavy. She couldn't raise her head, there was no willpower. All she could do, was listen to the crushing silence that followed. She was so tired, so eahusted. That voice... it had come from nowhere, and had sounded like an angel. An angel of music. Christine could feel her body vibrating, and her skin was all tingly and warm, but other than that, Christine could very well have been asleep. She was so comfortable, so at peace, but so sad.

Erik.

She was sad. She was sad because of Erik. Because of something he had done? No. What was it? What had happened? Why was her mind so blank? Why was everything so unclear? Why could she no longer see Erik? Hadn't she... Hadn't she just been speaking with him? He had just been in front of her. Yes, she had just been holding onto his wrists. But now she wasn't. She was no longer anywhere. She had been lifted to Heaven by a single word, and she was flying amongst the clouds.

Erik.

"Miss Daae?"

Erik. Where was Erik?

"Miss Daae?"

Christine opened her eyes, and sat upright suddenly. Her stomach lurched, and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut as she placed a hand over her stomach. Her head was ringing, and she felt so light headed, she was scared that she would fall over and hit her head...

But she wasn't standing. She was sitting down, in a rather comfortable seat actually. Christine looked around her wearily, squinting at the lights that blinded her. Why was everything so bright? She hadn't done any drinking the night before, so where the hangover had come from, she wasn't sure. Not that she had ever gotten one before, Raoul was often jealous of the fact that she had never experienced one in her life, but Christine knew there would come a time when she would have to watch herself whenever she drank. But that still didn't answer why Christine felt as though a steamroller had flattened her.

"Miss Daae?"

Christine's head jerked up towards the sound of a woman's voice, and she was vaguely aware of a blue blur in front of her. Christine rubbed her eyes. They were so sore! How long had she been asleep? And where exactly was she? Had she fallen asleep at one of Raoul's friend's flat? Raoul was usually keen for Christine to meet new people, and he was forever trying to introduce her to people she had never even heard of. People he knew through his family's businesses or something. Did they decide to have a kip at this person's house instead of catching a taxi?

"Yeah?" She asked groggily.

"Do you want a glass of water?" The woman asked.

"...Please, if that's okay." Christine answered, and blinked a few times before looking around blearily. If a strange woman was offering to get her some water, she wasn't going to turn it down, not when her throat was as dry as the desert. It was so raw, what had she been doing the night before, screaming or something?

She was sitting in a very unusual room. There was a bar, where Christine watched a tall woman dressed in a fancy blue uniform pour a glass of water for her. Christine looked around, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the view before her. Christine's heart stopped. She stood up. Her brain put it all together, and she realized where she was. She was on a plane. There were a few luxury chairs, with a table attached to the wall where her suitcases were resting. There was another suitcase that she didn't recognize sitting with them, and Christine stared in horror as she remembered exactly what had happened.

Erik had sent her away. Erik had dumped her. SHe had told him that she loved him ... hadn't she? She did... but then what? What had happened afterwards?

Christine looked around her in disbelief. How had she managed to get onto a plane without realizing it? And it was a private jet as well. How...

Erik.

It must have been Erik. Erik must have secured her a plane, though that didn't explain how she had gotten on. She had her suitcases and everything. How long had she been asleep?

_It's...it's not happening. Erik had really left me. He's just... He's not..._

Christine clumsily walked over to her suitcases, and found they had been packed. She opened them, tearing through everything. All of her stuff was there. Her laptop, her purse, all of her clothes, her shoes, her equipment. Who she now knew to be the stewardess watched her, with a pained expression on her face, holding her water. She took a step forward and placed the glass beside her hand, but she ignored it. Christine opened the last suitcase, and found it was filled with the presents she had been given from the various stores, only the day before. Christine quickly looked down to her wrist. Her bracelet was still there. She stared at it, pinching it between two fingers. The infinity loop was staring up at her, mocking her.

_Erik... He's..._

Christine turned her head away from the stewardess, trying to hide the tears that hid there, but she opened her eyes and saw another two stewardesses, one with red hair tied back into a bun, the other had neat blonde hair, tied back into a pony tail, were watching her, giving her sympathetic stares. Christine groaned, and swallowed her tears. She had confessed her feelings to Erik, and he rejected them. He hadn't even _questioned_ it, he had just placed her on the next plane to London.

"He... He's not here, is he?" Christine asked numbly.

Of the two, the redhead shook her head. "No."

"I'm on a plane to London, aren't I?"

The blonde nodded. "Yes."

"How did I get here?"

They looked at each other, giving each other doubtful glances, but the first stewardess spoke up."He carried you onto the plane."

Christine turned around to look at the other blonde, who had a serious, understanding look on her face. "He doesn't want us to talk to you, but I think it's disgusting the way he's treated you."

Christine closed her eyes. "You don't know...He...He..." Her voice crumbled into childish tears, and she covered her face with both hands, her bracelet clinking miserably against her wrist as she began to cry.

"Miss Daae, please, you must sit." The woman continued. "It'll be okay, you'll be back home soon."

Christine felt herself being guided back to her seat, and Christine collapsed into herself, dissolving into a pool of tears. How would it be okay? Erik had left her? Erik had actually left her. He was no longer beside her, he has a thousand miles away, and she was stuck here, with strangers pitying her. They didn't even know, they didn't even understand how Christine felt. They must have thought of her as the poor, sad little tourist, having been used by the recluse superstar. They must have thought all kinds of horrible things, but it didn't matter, it wasn't the truth.

She had landed in London, and to her surprise, there had been a car in the hanger where the plane pulled into. The driver was standing beside a beautiful Roll Royce, and he was dressed smartly as well. Christine been climbing down the steps when she caught sight of the car. Her heart had leapt, almost believing that Erik was waiting for her inside the car, and she almost broke her ankle trying to jump down the steps and run towards the car. She had yanked open the car door before the driver had even lifted his hand to do it for her, and she had looked inside, holding her breath.

He wasn't there. There was no-one. There was nothing, but a white card lying on the seat before her.

"Miss Daae." He greeted. "My name is Mr. Hollis. Mr Destler wishes for me to inform you that-"

Christine had stood up straight and turned to look at him. The driver had stopped talking, but continued in a softer, more personal tone.

"I'm your personal driver."

"Oh." Christine said, slowly turning to look back inside the car. Of course Erik wouldn't be there. Why would he have put her on a plane just to appear in a car?

"I am at your service, day or night." He concluded.

Christine looked up again. She didn't say anything. Her mind was blank. She opened her mouth to say something, to thank him, but no words came. There was nothing she wanted to say. There was nothing she had to say. She closed her mouth, and turned back to look into the limousine.

"Would you like me to get your things, Miss Daae?" He asked.

Christine nodded, but she didn't care. He left, and she closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips into her eyes. It was a nightmare. She was still asleep with Eirk in the botanical gardens. They were in Eden. They were in love. They were perfect.

Christine removed her fingers, and looked once more into the car. She had been staring at the white card for what felt like eternity. She climbed into the car, and picked it up, turning it over. It said two words.

_I'm sorry_.

Christine stared at it as shook in her hands. She broken down into tears, tearing the card apart, the pieces fluttering down to land around her feet. Christine squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to hold herself back from screaming like a child, and instead, fell down onto the seat, her body shaking as she cried into her fists, her hot tears slipping down her cheeks, onto her bracelet. This was it. This was heartbreak. He had left her, as her father had. He hadnt let her say goodbye, he hadn't given her a choice, she was just supposed to accept it and move on. This was worse, far worse than her father's passing. Her father's passing had been inevitable, there was no avoiding it, and there was nothing she could do about it, but this, this misery, it was because of Erik's decision. He was still alive, he was still breathing, and she would never see him again.

He was no longer her Erik.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Every single review makes me want to sing and dance and go crazy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	61. Chapter 61

**_Paul William's 'Faust'_**

_I was not myself last night  
Couldn't set things right  
With apologies or flowers  
Out of place as a cryin' clown  
Who could only frown  
And the play went on for hours  
And as I lived my role  
I swore I'd sell my soul  
For one love who would stand by me  
And give me back the gift of laughter  
One love who would stand by me  
And after making love we'd..._

_Dream a bit of style_  
_We'd dream a bunch of friends_  
_Dream each others smile_  
_And dream it never ends_

_I was not myself last night_  
_In the morning light_  
_I could see the change was showing_  
_Like a child who was always poor_  
_Reaching out for more_  
_I could feel the hunger growing_  
_And as I lost control_  
_I swore I'd sell my soul_  
_For one love who would sing my song_  
_And fill this emptiness inside me_  
_One love who would sing my song_  
_And lay beside me while we'd..._

* * *

Erik had been hardly aware of what he had done after he had cried into Christine's hair. He had walked in a dream, making sure all of his plans had fallen into place. He had to know that Christine would be looked after, that she would never want for anything. He had arranged for her to have her own driver, mainly for his own peace of mind, but also for the added bonus of ensuring that the media could never harass her, or get the chance to. He had paid off many of the broadcasting companies and the newspapers, but they was always the chance that some young punk would follow her. Erik wouldn't allow that to happen. The driver Erik had chosen had been a bodyguard for some prominent celebrities, even the occasional politician. He had driven Erik once or twice when Erik had visited Paris, many years ago, and Erik felt the man was trustworthy. He had found it strange that his next assignment had been to drive a young girl, but Erik hadn't really given him a choice in the matter. He had made his views clear. Protect Christine, watch over her, and he would give him riches. Failing that, Erik would take his life. Mr Hollis had understood perfectly. Despite having once been a boxer, and could have easily knocked him out, Mr Hollis knew that to cross Erik was to sign his own death warrant. He had gotten everything prepared, the plane was ready to leave, the orders sent out, his people in place, and the only thing left had been to gather Christine's things and... and... _He couldn't do it_. He couldn't, how could Christine leave? She was his world now, every second of his life he would have devoted to her, but now... Now he saw no point to continue. Not without Christine. Not without her love. If he could not have her love, then he could not have peace. For the whole of his life, he had wandered the earth, filled with hate, anger and jealousy, striking out at those who opposed him, watching as scores of beautiful women hid from him, crying when he touched them. His mother... His own mother... And now Christine was being taken away from him too. All he had ever wanted had been refused to him since birth. What others took for granted on a day to day basis, he could only dream of. A kiss to comfort him. A smile to enrich him. A voice to sing his songs. And now he would be writing songs for Carlotta.

Nadir still banged on the door, threatening to bring someone to tear the door down, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Erik only wandered from room to room, lost. He was trying to put off her departure, but it was only getting worse each second. He couldn't look at Christine. If he did, he would only cry again and try to hold her. He had drifted into the darkness of his bedroom, holding her phone close to his chest. He needed one last thing from Christine. He turned his computer screen on, hesitating as he saw the camera that had been placed in Christine's room. He shuddered as he remembered Carlotta's words. She had accused him of filthy things, but she was right. He was no more than a peeping tom, a disgusting pervert. He shook his head, as though to shake the bad thoughts away, and he rummaged through his drawers, looking for a matching wire to connect her phone to his computer, when something caught his eye. There was a flashing symbol in the lower right hand corner of the screen. It was saying that motion had been detected in the room, and the equipment had recorded it. There had been something moving in Christine's room at some point. He clicked on the button, and watched as it brought up a clip. There were a few seconds where it looked as though nothing had happened, but then someone appeared.

He stood up, and felt his throat clamp shut as he watched the tall, willowy figure of Carlotta approach Christine's bed. Erik took the screen angrily in his hands, listening to it crack beneath the pressure. Carlotta placed an envelope down on Christine's pillow, and turned around to face the mirror. She looked up at the camera. She was smiling repugnantly, winking as she blew the camera a kiss, and left the scene as quickly as she appeared.

Erik uncurled his fingers from around the screen. That loathsome witch, that despicable little harlot! Could he not have one hour to himself? What more did the woman have to say? He stuffed Christine's phone into his pocket, dashing around his home as he burst from his bedroom, gathering her things. Finally, he bent down, crouching on the balls of his feet to stare at Christine face. It was surprisingly similar, the way the tables had been turned. When Christine had been kneeling before him, when she had thought him asleep, their roles were reversed. Erik was kneeling, even, in the exact same place as Christine while she had been waiting for the brownies to bake. His thoughtful Christine. He could remember the disbelief he had felt at her cleaning his mask, the adoration as she left kisses along his mask, the way she had not flinched at his bare hands when she had thought he was asleep. His soul was clamoring for her, but there was nothing he could do.

He lifted Christine's head, holding it in the crook of his arm, and placed his other arm beneath her knees, and lifted her off of the couch. It was time to leave.

He approached the front door with tenacious speed, and would have torn the door from its hinges had it not been for the fact that Nadir was pressing his whole weight against it. He managed to without hurting Christine, but it was a trial. He knew she would not wake, but he did not want to hurt her. Nadir stumbled into the room, almost banging his knees against the end of the couch, ceasing his hoarse shouting, and stared wide eyed at the sleeping Christine. His body was shaking with fury, his face as red as a strawberry, breathing hard like a bull as his eyes flashed, and he attempted to give Erik a piece of his mind. Erik had no desire to speak to the man. Erik was too angry with him, and he would discuss the possibility of his friend's continued existence with him later. Erik had already stepped out the door as Nadir took a moment to summon the strength to follow him, heading down the long corridor that led to the elevator, and the old man had to run after him to catch up to his long strides.

"Erik, _Erik_!" Nadir wheezed. Clearly, the door banging had taken a lot out of him.

Erik entered the elevator, and turned around, his attention entirely on Christine. A ringlet had fallen into her eyes, and her eyelashes twitched for a moment. Erik sighed, and resisted the urge to move the ringlet.

"_Erik! You stop right now!_ Right this _second_! What have you done to Christine? What happ-"

The doors shut before Nadir could get to the doors, and Erik felt a slight amount of pressure as the elevator began to descend. Christine's eyes fluttered, and she started to frown, but she had stopped crying. Erik watched her. She had been so upset, but now she looked as though something had crossed her mind. What was it? Was it the mask? Or was it _him_? He had been so eccentric, so unpredictable, and back in London there was Raoul, who could offer her a far more normal life. Was there the possibility that she would look his way? The elevator doors opened, and the driver was waiting beside the limousine, holding the passenger seat door open with a terrified look on his face. Erik ignored him, and placed Christine in gently. He clambered in after her, after telling the driver to take them to the Winchester, and Erik pulled out Christine's phone. Christine's face turned restful, and Erik watched her for a second, before retrieving the blanket he had saved from earlier. He had gotten rid of everything else, the pillows and the hamper, but he could not let go of the blanket. It had come in handy it seemed.

He turned on the phone, searching through it for the photo of them together. He found her her other photos, and stared at them. They were filled with interesting things that had caught her eye. Weird bubble formations in coffees she made. Photos of her cat, Paul. Photos of Raoul, photos of the airport she arrived in. And a picture of Christine wearing the first dress she had worn the first night they met. He found the next photo was of the both of them, and stared at it. He couldn't take his eyes off of it, and he rubbed his thumb over the scratched screen. She looked so happy in the photo, like she was truly happy, as though the reason why she was happy was because of him. Erik couldn't imagine the pain she would now have to suffer because of him. It was going to haunt him in his dreams. Christine, the only reason he had to breathe, would hate him for the way he had treated her, putting her on a plane without saying goodbye, dumped her in London where there was the stupid offering of a driver waiting for her. How would she fare without him when she realized that she would never see him again when they had promised each other so much. She, her voice, her link to her father having been cut when he died, and Erik had been the one to mend that cut. She would be devastated, she would be worse than before. Would she hold a pillow and think of him, or would she tear it apart it her little hands?

Christine occasionally pulled her hands closer to her chest, or shifted her leg, and Erik would always stop to watch her. It would be the last time he would see her do anything, each movement was precious to him, with the short time they had left. They arrived at the Winchester sooner than he had expected, and Erik jumped out after he emailed himself the two photos to his account from hers. He didn't have to log in, it was already open, but still, he didn't look at her emails or her password. He would give her privacy there thought it killed him to do so. He entered the lobby, standing tall as he cut an imposing figure. There were plenty of people in the lobby, now all watching him as he neared the reception desk at a fast pace. He ignored them all. He was on a mission, and he wasn't going to let their ignorant gawking distract him. He reached over the desk to reach the drawers and pulled out the master keycard.

"Mr Destler..." murmured the girl who had been on the desk.

He avoided looking at her, and strode over to the elevators. He kept his mind blank. He could be alone soon. When he got home, and there was no-one to look at him and stare and cry or laugh, then he could open the floodgates that threatened to burst open. He reached Christine's room, unlocked it, and entered. He took a deep breath, to collect himself, and he entered the room slowly. His body had never been high strung before. He was alone in Christine's room, with her things. It would take him a moment to adjust. He took his time, looking around the room. Her presents from the day before were piled around the dressing table, and the rest of her things were mostly in her suitcases, she hadn't seemed inclined to place her clothes away in any drawers. He was grateful for that, he wasn't sure if he could handle her clothing without breaking down once more. He couldn't break down again, not now. He made sure he was out of view of the camera, leaning up against the bathroom wall that faced the windows, and he raised his thumb to press it over the lens, his arm over the mirror as he stretched up. He could feel the camera lens beneath his leather gloves, and he held it there for a few seconds. There was a click to confirm the camera had been turned off, and he stepped away from the the wall before he took a closer look at it. He had to squint to see it clearly, it had been disguised well. He would have tipped his henchman, if Erik wasn't so unsure if the man _hadn't_ been the one to inform Carlotta. There was time to find out later, but for now, he would have to deal with Carlotta's note. He approached the bed, and picked up the envelope. It was addressed to _him_. He blinked, and turned it over, ripping the flimsy paper apart until he held the card in his hands. He stared at the messy, scrawled handwriting. It was so unlike Carlotta, he almost didn't believe it was from her.

_I can get to her as easily as you can. Do not tempt me. _

Erik flared his nostrils, biting his lips hard as he tore apart the card. There weren't enough insults in the world to call that woman. He would pay. He would figure out a way to win. He just needed to find a weak point. Some card she held that he could see. He had to admit, she was a very prepared and very efficient. She would have made a good lawyer. What a shame she was deluded enough to think she could sing. She sounded like a toad, compared to Christine. It still hadn't sunk in that he would have to compose an entire album for her. Was her vanity so warped that she believed she could worm her way back into Hollywood? The woman was mad, evil in a dress, and he swore, he would make Carlotta pay.

Erik dropped his hand, and stared at the pillows he was facing. Her bed was still the same messy state Christine had left it that morning. If only he could go back when she had woken that morning. If only he could live forever in the moment before the thunder. Before he had to give her up. He had been in heaven with Christine, he truly thought he had made Christine happy.

Erik sniffed, blinking away the tears, though his drooping eyelids did not help, and he quickly began searching through drawers for anything he might miss, but there wasn't much. He packed away her laptop, made sure her camera was secure, as well as her jewellery box, her make-up bag and the few little things she had, like her keys, her passport, one or two little lip glosses, some batteries, scrunched up papers, her shoes and her pamphlets on New York. Erik had entered the bathroom, and found more clothes, more body lotions and shampoos, and Erik opened each bottle, one by one. He had found the honey lotion, and the tea tree and mango shampoo and conditioner, and smelled them deeply. It brought back memories of Christine in his arms when they had been at the party. The way she had fallen against him in the limo ride to his apartment afterwards. She had been so tired, but she had insisted on listening to him play his music.

_"If you require sleep, I do not wish to keep you up." He had said, sighing. He did not want her to get annoyed with him for keeping her up too late._

_"No, Erik, please! Don't send me home." She had protested, and Erik had carefully wrapped his arm closer around her._

Erik groaned, clutching his chest. Why... Why did he have to be reminded? He had only just been able to stop crying, why was his mind torturing him with her memory? He carried through her things into the bedroom, carefully putting everything away. He had to forget, just for now. He begged to God to let him forget her face, but everytime he closed his eyes, she was there, smiling at him. He was ashamed to do it, but there were one or two things he had stolen from her. Things she would not miss, things she would forget about. One of her lip gloss bottles. A few hair pins he had found on the floor. Her grey nail varnish. If he could not keep her, then he would keep whatever he could. There was a knock at the door, and Erik stuffed his guilty prizes into his his pockets before he opened the door to find Nadir standing there. His face was still red, and it was an unwelcome sight to see the one man he had thought he could trust, tear down his world without saying a word. Not that Erik wanted to listen. Nadir was carrying a suitcase, and he dropped it, pointing his finger at Erik's mask. Erik gritted his teeth, and turned around, re-entering Christine's room. He didn't have the time to deal with the insolent betrayer.

"They said downstairs that you ordered this. I refuse to believe this is for you." Nadir said, following him into Christine's room. "You can't just take Christine and run, no matter what you're trying to run from, this isn't-!"

Erik had spun around, before Nadir could crash into his back, and his hand shot out to throttle the man's neck. He clenched his fingers tighter, and tighter, enjoying the sudden realization that appeared on Nadir's face. The immediate fear of death had been a look on men's faces that Erik had once reveled in, in the early days of death and destruction, and it had been some time since he had last...

_Christine_.

Erik's fingers sprang away from Nadir's neck, as though they had been electrocuted by lightning, and Erik simmered beneath his mask. He would not kill Nadir. He still needed the man, but he could not keep the fire from his voice as he watched Nadir choke, wheezing as he gasped for breath.

"Do not speak. I do not care to listen to what you have to say. This is your fault. Everything. You are the reason why it has to be this way. You brought her into my life, and because of you she is being taken away from me. I asked you to take her away. I asked you to take her out of my apartment, and what did you do? You left me with the impossible task of having to say goodbye to Christine. And I couldn't even have that..." Erik said softly.

He walked back to the door to retrieve the spare suitcase, and began to pack the last of Christine things into it as Nadir leaned against the bathroom wall. He would deal with Nadir later, when the urge struck him but now, all he had to do to get past the agony was not cry.

"What... are you... on a... about?" Nadir gagged, rubbing his neck as he still struggled for breath.

"You brought Christine and me together. If you had not convinced me to be at the music awards that night, then I would never have met her. The only thing I asked of you, when we left Iran, was if you destroyed any evidence of my existence in that wretched place. You told me you did, but you lied, _Daroga_. It was the only task I set you, one simple little thing. All you had to do was delete the records, burn any photos, destroy anything that proved that I was there. It's because of you, that everything is over. You are a cruel man, a cruel man indeed to show me happiness and then take it away. Crueler than I dare say _Him_." Erik accused, jabbing his index finger upwards. "Be grateful I do not kill you. You still have some purpose."

"Erik... please... Christine..." Nadir moaned, trying to speak, but each word seemed to get quieter.

"You fool. You shouldn't speak. You'll lose your voice." Erik uttered. "Not that I'm complaining."

Nadir's eyes squeezed shut, and he clutched Erik's sleeve. "She... She..."

"She is fine." Erik said, his bitterness fading as he thought about Christine's crumpled form in his limousine. "She is asleep. But I must get her on a plane before she wakes up. She won't wake up for some time, but she cannot stay here any longer." His eyes snapped back to Nadir's face, as he jerked his arm out of Nadir's grip. "_You will not touch her_."

"Erik... _wait_..." Nadir growled, but Erik couldn't listen to him anymore.

"_Shut up. Sit down. Stay._" Erik commanded.

Nadir's eyes widened as his mouth clamped shut. He stumbled over the bed and sank down into the sheets. He didn't move, but Erik could see that Nadir was trying to scream, his lips sliding about his face as he tried to open them.

"You have a been a good friend. You were loyal, and you saved me from that hellhole. I couldn't have done it without you." Erik said, staring out towards the windows. He looked down at Nadir. "That is why I am giving you this warning. If you come after me again, I will kill you. There will be no mercy for you. I had it once, but it is gone now. You will not talk to Christine, either, am I understood? If I find out you've even tried to approach her, then I shall make you wish you have never been born. You will leave her alone." Erik looked back out of the windows. "We both shall."

Nadir's eyes softened, but he was still suspicious and angry. Whatever Nadir had to say, Erik wasn't interested. There was nothing the man could say to make Erik forgive him. It was easy to blame Nadir, to blame Nadir meant it was _his_ fault that Erik had to give up Christine, and Erik could just direct all of his anger and disgust towards him. He was an easy target. There was a fury in Erik, a rage that could not be quelled. His Demons bathed in that fury, speaking to him enchanting lies, twisting his mind as he felt himself being dragged down into the black despair of his psyche. There was only so much madness he could take. A heart could be broken and mended, but a mind, once lost, would need a light to find its way.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Every single review makes me want to sing and dance and go crazy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	62. Chapter 62

**_Fugee's 'Killing me Softly'_**

_Strumming my pain with his fingers,  
Singing my life with his words,  
Killing me softly with his song,  
Killing me softly with his song,  
Telling my whole life with his words,  
Killing me softly with his song._

_I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style,  
And so I came to see him and listen for a while.  
And there he was this young boy, a stranger to my eyes._

___Strumming my pain with his fingers,  
Singing my life with his words,  
Killing me softly with his song,  
Killing me softly with his song,  
Telling my whole life with his words,  
Killing me softly with his song._

___I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd,  
I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud.  
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on..._

_______Strumming my pain with his fingers,  
Singing my life with his words,  
Killing me softly with his song,  
Killing me softly with his song,  
Telling my whole life with his words,  
Killing me softly with his song._

* * *

Christine was emotionally spent. The entire journey back to her apartment had been so quiet, and Christine could not lift herself from the car seat. She wasn't even thinking, she was just staring numbly at the floor while her bracelet kept reflecting the lights from the windows into her eyes. Her whole world had come crashing down, and she didn't know whether to be angry or sad, but her mind was filled with the memories that she had spent with Erik. Falling on top of him at the music awards. Letting him hold her on the yacht. The times spent in his apartment. How could Erik just put an ocean between them? He loved her. He had been so happy, hadn't he? Why had he refused her love? Was her love not enough to overcome anything that hurt him? Did her words mean nothing to him? She had done her best to please him, to make him feel normal, to give him the love he deserved, to let him see there was a future where he could be happy, and it would be... would have been... with her. Why then, why hadn't he said anything? Why didn't he say he loved her as well? She had been so sure that he _would_ say it. Was there the chance that she had not heard him? She had been distracted by a voice calling her name, a beautiful, haunting voice. She still didn't know what had happened, it had all been a blur. One minute, she had been standing in front of Erik, crying, and seconds later she had been on a plane with Erik nowhere in sight. Did her words hurt him so much because he believed he wasn't good enough for her, or was it something else?

Christine felt so tired, she felt she could sleep for days, but her mind was racing with a dozen questions. There were too many to ask, and she missed Erik and could feel the miles between them. Despite all of her suitcases packed in the boot of the car, Christine's heart felt as though _it_ had been left in New York. It was there, waiting with Erik, and it left Christine feeling as though she was a zombie. She wished she could know what Erik was doing. Was he thinking of her the way she thought of him? Was he trying to get on with his life, or was he suffering too? Why had he sent her away? Why couldn't Christine shake him from her mind? He had given her the world, and those five days had been the happiest of her life. She couldn't imagine not having Erik's arms around her, his mask kissing her hair, and she kissing his hands.

Christine closed her eyes shut, and tried to remember the way they felt against her lips. She was afraid that she _would_ forget, that she'd no longer be able to picture his hands running through her hair, pinching her dress, unbraiding her hair. It made her heart rattle in her chest, but instead of the sweet euphoria that used to accompany her fluttering heart, she felt as though someone had injected her with poison, and she could feel it coursing through her veins. Some small part of her was still fighting Erik's decision. It was still trying to insist that Erik would appear, that he would come back for her. But the longer she sat with her thoughts, the quieter that voice got. He had dumped her, they were no longer in a relationship, but to Christine, it didn't matter. 'Relationship' was a word that didn't apply to Erik. What they had, it couldn't be claimed with words, words only made it predictable, words made sense. There was no sense to what she had experienced with Erik. She had been drawn to him the moment her eyes had taken in his mask, and it was the most impossible kind of love. A love she should have shared. Why had she not told him sooner? Why did she think there had been a right time to tell him? Love wasn't conscious of time, love stood outside of time. Days could pass, and Christine would still love him. She would still love her Erik. Not that he was hers anymore. She didn't have a claim to him.

Christine pushed herself off of the car seat when the car pulled up to her apartment. She stared blankly out of the window, her whole body trembling as she thought of her home. She would have to wake up every morning, without Erik. She would have to go to work, without Erik. She would have to live her life, _without_ Erik. Her home had never seemed like such a cage before. It was horrible, she felt so alone, and she wished she could have had her father to comfort her. When he had been alive, whenever she had had a particularly bad day, he would always make her some tea and toast, put her in bed, and read to her from the great poets, such as Wordsworth, Browning or Keats. To listen to his voice as she drifted off to sleep had been the most reassuring thing in her life, it was as though just by sitting close to him, passing him her water whenever he coughed, smiling whenever he looked at her, she knew that nothing would ever hurt her. Not when she had her father. But now he was gone, dead beneath the earth, and she would never hear his voice again. She would never hear Erik's voice either. She wished she could have heard him talk more. Why had she done all of the talking? It had been because Erik had been such a closed off person, refusing to talk about his past. She wished she had asked him more questions, just anything about him. It was hard, loving a man she knew next to nothing about. Yet he knew all about her, her whole past had been on display, for the world to see. And now, the world would want to see this. She hadn't even begun to think about how she would explain it to her followers.

The door opened, and a hand appeared. Christine watched it for a moment, before placing her hand in it. It was hard and plump, and it was like sandpaper to her skin. Christine could see dark, faded tattoos hiding beneath the cuffs of the driver's jacket, and she was very confused. He didn't seem like a regular chauffeur, to her. Christine was pulled out, with more force than she had been expecting, and the driver had caught her before she lost her footing, and he winced as he set her on her feet and pulled his hands away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize how tired you would be." The driver said.

Christine looked up at him, her eyes sweeping over him. He was just barely taller than him, and he had a London accent. He was a local then, Erik had taken that into consideration for her. Did Erik think that it would make up for everything? It was frustrating that he thought she would be pleased buy this revelation. Did he think that was all she had wanted from him? Pretty trinkets and slaves to do her bidding? Christine sighed, and dropped her head. She was tired of fighting. Tired of the questions. Tired of having no answers to go with those questions.

"Do you want me to bring your suitcases up?" He asked, and Christine nodded slowly, her mind elsewhere. He smiled sadly at her, one corner of his mouth tilting up, and Christine sniffed, turning away so she wouldn't have to look at any more sympathetic smiles. No-one of them knew, none of the understood how she was feeling.

She unlocked the front door, taking a few steps into her building, and walked up the stairs to the first floor, where her apartment was. She entered, looking around as Paul meowed from her couch and jumped off, walking over to greet her. Everything seemed the same since she had last seen it. It was as though nothing had happened, as though it had all been a dream. She walked into the kitchen, with Paul following her on her heels as she kicked off her sandals, the same ones she had been wearing since the botanical gardens, and she began to pour herself a glass of water. Paul jumped up onto the countertop, and weaved under her arms and over her hands, rubbing his faces against her fingers. Christine turned off the tap and shakily placed the water down. She couldn't do this. She couldn't just let this pass.

"Where do you want me to put them, Miss Daae?" The driver asked, poking his head through her front door.

Christine cringed. She felt awful for not remembering his name, but her mind had been so caught up in other matters that it had simply slipped out of her head.

"You can leave them there, thank you." Christine answered quietly, watching as he carried two of the suitcases in under his arms. He was very strong, very burly, she realized. He must have gone to the gym quite a lot, as the way his suit pulled tight definitely showed his arms were very well toned.

"I'll go get your other suitcase." He told her, turning to leave.

Christine looked up at him. "Erik... Mr Destler, you spoke with him, didn't you?"

The man stopped, and turned his head to look at her. "I did. He gave me my orders."

"To be my driver, but that can't have been all you talked about." Christine insisted, taking a few steps closer to him. "What did he tell you? Did he say how long this would be for?"

"I have no clue, Miss Daae. He just told me to drive you wherever you want, whenever you want." The man said, hanging his own head. "I'm sorry."

Christine clenched her hands into little fists. "But, he _must_ be paying you, surely you have a way of contacting him?"

"No. Mr Destler made it very clear that we would not be staying in communication." He answered, scratching his bald, stubbly head.

Christine gave a small cry, and turned around quickly to face her kitchen windows. She dug her nails into her arms as she held herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she held back more tears. How could she be so stupid? How could she let her heart get the better of her? What would her father think of her? What would he say if he was alive today? Would he comfort her, or call her careless? She turned around to apologize to the driver, but he had already left. Paul bumped his head against her back, looking for attention, but Christine couldn't even look at him. She couldn't hand her heart out again, she had given her heart to _him_, served it to him in her own hands, and she had been happy to cut it out, grinning all the while. To even try and show any happiness now felt like she was betraying her own actions. To look for comfort, to even try and find it felt as though she was betraying _him_.

Christine took a sip of her water, and stared down at Paul. He looked up at her, through sleepy, annoyed eyes. Christine placed the glass down, and left the kitchen to wander into her bedroom. Paul followed her, as usual, as he watched her open her wardrobe and begin to take off her clothes. She paused, looking at herself in the mirror that was attached to the inside of the door. Her eyes were red, and puffy, and her face looked as though she had a rash of some kind, there was red splotches all across her face, her nose was stuffy and her lips were trembling. Her tears wouldn't stop coming, they just kept rolling down her cheeks as leaving horrible streaks against her skin. She looked horrible, but she could live with it. It felt good to see some psychical evidence of her pain, it made it all the more real.

She looked down at the clothes in her hands. It had felt wrong to still be wearing them. She had been wearing both the slate skirt and the denim shirt back in the botanical gardens, and they still had grass stains and scratches from where branches had caught on her clothes. There was even some smudged soil on her shirt, from when she had been lying down to hide from Erik. She hadn't known why she had hidden from him, it had just seemed like a good idea. They were playing silly games, lost in each other, and she had felt like a child again. Her father had played hide and seek with her when she was little, and she had always been very good at hiding. Her small body meant she could hide behind trees, in bushes, and it had always made her father worry whenever he couldn't find her. When she had met Raoul, he had taken over her father's role of being the seeker, and her father would sit on the benches in the parks they visited, watching the both of them run about. The two of them would get their clothes dirty, and Raoul's childminder would always give an annoyed sigh whenever she came to pick Raoul up. They would always laugh about it afterwards...

Christine stopped, and threw her clothes into her wardrobe, giving an irritated shriek of annoyance that were close to tears. She took some deep breaths, and pressed her palms to her forehead, wishing the newly forming headache would leave already. She heard the driver bring her last suitcase in. He tried calling her name, but she hadn't answered. She didn't want to carry on the charade, she wanted to just curl up in her bed and forget. It was useless though. She could never forget him. What had Erik been thinking? What did he think would happen? Did he think she _would_ forget him? The driver left, shutting her front door behind him, and Christine's face scrunched up as she fought against her feelings. She was alone now. There was no-one else for her to speak to. She would not cry. She _wouldn't_.

_This is stupid. There has to be a way of getting in contact with Erik. I have to make him see that this is wrong, that I should be with him, not_ _here_! Christine thought as she pulled out some shorts and a random T-shirt. She didn't care what she wore, it just had to be something other than what she _had_ been wearing. She pulled them on thinking_, If only I'd thought of asking him for his number. I don't think I've ever even seen him with a phone. I guess Nadir handles all of his calls for him..._

Christine's train of thought stopped as she realized she had forgotten something. She raced back into her living room, almost tripping on the carpet as she tore through her suitcases, looking for her phone. She found her purse, and dug through it, pulling out her mobile and switched it on. She waited impatiently, pursing her lips angrily until she managed to search through her contacts like a woman possessed. His name was still there! She held the phone to her ear, and listening to the ringing as she held her breath. Nadir would have the answers, Nadir would be able to explain what had happened, and he would have to ask for her forgiveness for letting it all happen in the first place, and there was even the chance that Erik would be nearby. She'd have to ask to be put on speakerphone, so she could speak to Erik, she had to make sure that he had heard her. If he had heard her and...

The call was declined.

Christine held the phone out from her, and stared at it in stunned disbelief. Nadir had declined her call. Nadir knew it was her calling, and he had chosen not to answer. She looked at the clock on her phone, and tried to figure out what time it would be back in New York. It was mid-morning in London, so surely that meant that it was still night there? Nadir couldn't be asleep, could he? Wouldn't he be worried about her? What if Nadir didn't know what had happened? Surely he'd have noticed her disappearance? He would question Erik, and Erik would have to explain. So if that had happened, then why wasn't Nadir trying to get hold of her? Had... he left her too?

Christine shivered, curling up into a ball as she dropped to her feet, burying her hands in her face. She bawled like a baby, sobbing as her labored breathing began to make her choke. Her hands became slick with sweat and tears, and her bracelet rubbed along her jaw, the way that Erik's fingers had once traced her, and she pulled her hands away from the endless tears. She was really alone. She had been forgotten about, and there was nothing she could do. Nothing else could break her heart anymore. She thought... She actually thought she had found the one place she was meant to be. She thought she had found her soulmate.

Was that a stupid word to use? In this day and age, was there even such a thing? There were many forms of love, the love she felt for her father, for Raoul, for her friends at work, for her followers, but her love for Erik was so different, it was so fast and possessive, it was difficult to even see how it compared to the other kinds of love.

Paul came and sat beside her, curling his tail around his legs. Christine crumbled as she fell onto her back, and laid on the floor. She closed her eyes. She could pretend, for just a moment, that she was back in the botanical gardens. But that hurt too much, and she opened her eyes again to stare at her ceiling. Paul stood up, and walked over to her hand, which rested above her head. He licked her knuckles, then proceeded to walk back into her bedroom. He was understanding as always. He'd been with her for so long, he'd come to know when to seek out scratches behind the ear from her, and when to leave her alone. She had found Paul, all by himself, years ago, just after the death of her father. She had seen his glowing eyes from her bedroom window, and after assuming it was someone spying on her, she had almost attacked him with a badminton racket. She had been so relieved to find just a normal, scrawny cat in the tree on the sidewalk. She had brought him inside, made sure he was fed and he had had some water, and by the next morning, she had gotten so attached to him as she hadn't wanted him to leave. She had made sure that he was healthy by taking him to the vets, she had bought him a silver collar with glitter sprinkled on it, and she had slowly introduced him to her viewers. They'd been over the moon, suggesting all sorts of names. Christine hadn't known what to call him, she had asked Raoul, who suggested 'Jasper', the other girls hadn't been that interested, but they agreed with Raoul, as they did on most occasions, and Edward, she had found, was no better at naming cats than deciding on a theme for his cafe. She had given up, decided to name him after her landlord, seeing as he was being kind enough to let her keep the cat in his building. Ever since then, Paul had been living with Christine. They had never spent so much time apart, she had expected Paul to be more demanding of her time, but she was grateful that he knew she needed to be by herself. He had always been such a comfort to her, he had been the one for her to convey her fears to. Whenever she was sad, Paul found ways of distracting her, which usually either meant a bite on her knuckles or swatting her face with his tail, both of which would snap her out of her mood. Whenever she just needed to think, he would stay close to her. Whenever she needed cheering up, he always somehow understood. It was funny, she could see Erik and Paul getting on.

Christine stood up, sniffling as she wiped her face on her t-shirt. She didn't care, there was no-one to see her now. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed her glass of water. She wondered if she should have called Raoul. She didn't very much want to see him, she knew he would be happy about the whole situation, but she had missed him, and she needed to hear his voice. He wouldn't be so cruel at to let her see how pleased he was, but he would be there for her, and that was what she needed. Someone to lean on, someone to listen and understand. She doubted Raoul would understand why she missed him, but he would still be there, listening to her and giving her the support support she needed. It had only been a day... no, two days now, since she had last spoken to him. Like Paul, she had never usually spent so much time away from him. He would only be hurt if she waited until he found out at the airport that she wasn't there. Christine sighed. She didn't want to call him, she was tired, jet lagged and irritable. She wanted to try and call Nadir again, maybe it had been an accident that he had declined her call, but she decided to wait a few hours, make sure that he was awake and conscious of every decision he was making. She looked at the clock on her kitchen wall. It was only around 11am, Nadir would be getting up soon, but Raoul would already be at work. It seemed she couldn't call either of them for now.

She carried her glass through into the bedroom, and crawled on top of her bed, crawling around Paul who was ignoring her as he cleaned himself. She began to tie her hair up into a bun, before taking a few sips of her water, and she hid under the sheets, pulling them completely over her as she grabbed one of her pillows. She had pulled it tight against her, and pushed her face into it, breathing deeply. She had closed her eyes, and was trying to remember the last thing Erik had said to her.

_Whatever you do, you must know, that everything I do, has always been, and will always be, for you._

It was hard to believe that, when he had done it to protect him.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me, I can't stop giggling when I read them! I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Every single review makes me want to sing and dance and go crazy! Thank you everyone!**

**Also, I recommend re-reading the last chater, I have re-written it and edited it some.**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	63. Chapter 63

**_Passenger's Let Her Go_**

_Well you only need the light when it's burning low_  
_Only miss the sun when it starts to snow_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_

_Only know you've been high when you're feeling low_  
_Only hate the road when you're missin' home_  
_Only know you love her when you let her go_  
_And you let her go_

_Staring at the bottom of your glass_  
_Hoping one day you'll make a dream last_  
_But dreams come slow and they go so fast_

_You see her when you close your eyes_  
_Maybe one day you'll understand why_  
_Everything you touch surely dies_

* * *

Erik's apartment had never looked so cold and empty before. It was painful for him to be there, walking around the living room, staring at the empty couch, it was as though Christine had sucked the life and colour out of everything. Not even the technicolor light that fell from the rose window above him could lift his spirits. His whole body was in agony, his legs felt weak, and he could hardly lift his head. He couldn't stand to be there, it only dug up memories of Christine, but there was nowhere else he could go. He would wander from room to room, his eyes drifting over everything, but he couldn't seem to focus his mind. He was useless, a miserable old man lost in his memories. He tried to bury himself in his office, but the words on the papers he was reading swam about on the page, blurring his vision. He tried to compose, but he had lost the fire in his heart that should have been there, deep inside him. He tried to close his eyes, and think of Christine, but every time he placed his fingertips to the keys of his piano, all he could hear was the single note that she had sung for him. She had been glorious, her eyes closed as she lifted her head. It would haunt him in his dreams, if he even dared to sleep. Once, he had thought he had heard Christine's laughter coming from his kitchen, and he had raced over to the kitchen door, tearing it open, panting heavily as he looked around the room, but she had not been there. He had broken down, sobbing as he fell to the floor, banging his fists against the floor. Christine would never stand in his kitchen again. She would not bake him brownies or wish him good morning. She was gone... Forever. The light that had been shining down on him had faded, the shadows were creeping up on him, ready to consume him. Erik didn't dare look in the fridge. If he saw the brownie that Christine had made for him, that he had _ruined_, he wasn't sure if he could keep his sanity. It was threatening to break, and he would be lost forever if he didn't take control. He could not afford to fall now, not when Christine needed him. Erik needed to keep her safe, and if it meant suffering endless hours, watching as the days dragged on, listening to Carlotta's foul singing, then he would do it and be thankful. He knew he could not have kept Christine, it was _stupid _to think that she would have stayed for him, but the time that she had spent here, in his... his home, he would have done it all over again. Even if it meant having to suffer the torment of Carlotta.

Erik had tried to sleep, hoping that his nightmares would be a better misery than his waking life, but his mind refused to turn off, and he was stuck there, lying on his bed, stroking the pillow he was holding close to his body, wishing that it was Christine in his arms. He had cleaned away the shattered crystals, shame and humiliation overcoming him as he did so. He had knelt down, letting his fingers hover just above them, as he remembered the way Christine had looked, staring before him on his computer chair, holding up the hanging decoration, smiling as she waited for him to respond. She had been glorious, her skin dappled with dozens of dancing rainbows, all jumping about her cheeks, down her neck, over her shoulders. Erik began to pick up the pieces, dropping them into his cupped hand as he ignored the little nicks and slices the shattered fragments gave him. His cuts would heal, leaving tiny scars, but they were nothing compared to the scars on his heart. He was angry with himself, but he did not have the energy to punish himself for breaking her gift to him, so instead, he cried like a child, hardly able to move, his muscles were so weak and tired as depression overcame him. Christine had only wanted to make his morning more cheerful, to brighten up his room. She only wanted to make him happy. Erik collected as many of the shards as he could, tilting his hand to pour them all into a small wooden box he had retrieved from his lab, after searching through the mess that were his research papers and through endless drawers. He had placed the box on his bedside table, sighing wretchedly as he wished he could undo his actions. There were still particles of the crystals that he could not pick up, not even without his gloves off. They glittered, catching his eye easily, and it reminded him of the crystals she had worn in her hotel bedroom.

_"It's okay to cry, especially over something beautiful, and your voice is that."_

Erik had thrown himself upon his bed, splitting the mask in two as he wrenched it from his head. He had stayed there for what felt like days, just tossing and turning in his wrinkled sheets, the mask falling to the floor with a loud clunk. He wanted to die. He could not live knowing that the one person he would ever meet that did not shun him, the one woman that he would ever love, would never love him back. Love, he decided, was sly and sneaky. It just filled his nights with regret over misspoken words, distorted every thought and leaving only terrible creases in his bed, which were only filled with memories of watching Christine sleep in his bed, and what he had done to her without her consent. It was better for her that she was gone, she was safe from him, but he still wished she was there, to hold him and to let him hold her back. He _missed_ her.

Christine had cradled his heart in her tiny hands, and she had taken it with her to London. Did she think of him? Was she angry? Did she cry? Would she be sad once some time had passed? Would she remember him? Too many questions were running through his head, like wild stallions, and the voices that lay in wait were laughing at him, judging him for every mistake he had made in front of Christine, punishing him every time he tried to remember the way she had felt pressed against him, criticizing every word she had spoken, and Erik wanted to tear them from his head. He wanted to smash every glass and burn every book, and he almost had, storming into the living room in a wild rage. He had been ripping out the books from his shelf, throwing them to the floor as he vented his fury, roaring wildly as he buried his warped face in his trembling hands. He had remembered what Christine had asked him, when he had been showing her his book collection.

_Christine had taken his hand, looking up at him innocently. "Do you think that if she had stayed, she would have learned to love you?"_

Erik couldn't breathe, it was as though he was gulping down sulfur, and his hands had fumbled about, looking for his book safe amongst the untouched books. He wheezed painfully as his fingers jumped from tome to tome, and found the small green book at last. Why, _why_ had Christine's words come back to haunt him? He opened the book, flicking through the pages until he came to the small, rectangle shaped section of the book that was missing. He had hidden his morphine inside it, and pulled out a long, thick vial, which was accompanied by a syringe. He had not taken morphine in years, the sweet vanilla scent stirring up old memories of Iran, of the dark and isolated cell he had slept in. The lieutenants who had forced him to put on shows had forced the sickly stuff on him, to keep him calm and to stop him from attacking every person he laid his eyes on, but after some time, it had proved to be a useful way of keeping him under their control. They didn't need to give him the syringe once he had submitted to their control, and had given him a daily supply of the morphine in pill form, but Erik had found a taste for the needle. Nadir had been the one to free him from the bonds of the drug, shouting promises of freedom to him through the screaming, dodging the flying tools that Erik would throw at him whenever he was refused his morphine. Erik had needed the morphine, it had been the only way for him to cope, the only way he could live through the horrors he had been forced to face. Erik, when he had been broken of the drug's spell over him, had promised his allegiance to Nadir, vowing that the man, despite his previous actions, would be rewarded. He had never touched the stuff again, but Erik knew there would come a day when he would no longer be able to compose his music, to build his monuments, to control the empire he had created. He was an old man, and his time was coming, but he would not let death take him so easily. He had purchased enough morphine to kill himself, when the time came.

He turned the vial in his hands, watching the hazy yellow substance splash about. It would be so easy just to lose himself for a day or two, but Christine's teary face had appeared in his mind, and Erik's hands had twitched, causing him to drop the vial, to watch it shatter on the floor, the syrupy golden liquid trickle out from between the cracks to seep out across his floor. Erik stared in horror, his lips trembling as he knelt down, sniffing like a child. Would God not let him find peace, if only for a moment? Would he ever be able to stop crying?

Nadir, to Erik's annoyance, was still pestering him, but the man knew not to come to his apartment. He sent endless emails and texts, but Erik ignored them all. The man had nothing that Erik wanted to hear. He knew that his words would be sharp and deliberate, piercing through his shattered armour. Nadir would either accuse him of _harming_ Christine, would try to tell him that it was for the best, or that he never even had her in the first place. But it was lies! Christine had been his, for a few glorious days, she had shown him the beauty that life had to offer. She had given him purpose, and now that purpose was gone. As much as he was angry at him, Erik knew he couldn't blame Nadir forever. It was his own fault that he no longer had Christine, and there was no else to blame. He should have done everything in his power to ensure that Christine would never find out his horrific past, he should have burned his prison to the ground, he should have removed Buquet years ago, he should have dealt with Carlotta, but now, it was too late. He would just have to suffer the consequences. When he was brave enough, Erik would approach his computer, refreshing the single page that was open. It was on Christine's channel, and Erik had been refreshing the page as many times as he had dared. He did not know if Christine would speak of him in her videos, or even if she would upload a video so soon after their break-up, but he needed to see her. He needed to see whether she was as broken as him, or whether she had moved on, like he hoped she would. She deserved to be happy, and Erik would pay the penance, torturing himself by watching Christine lead a happy life without him. It was killing him though, as each day passed and there was no word from Christine. She had not posted anything, and all of her followers were confused. They were all wondering where she was, still pestering her for information, but she had not replied to any comments, and it made Erik very worried. One comment had even mentioned Carlotta, and Erik had turned away, sick of reading other people's opinions. They didn't know the truth.

It was some time before Carlotta dared to make an appearance. Erik had been sitting on his bed, staring at the crystal dust that he had left on the floor when Carlotta had called his phone. Erik had no clue it was her, and he had picked his phone up, on the smallest of hopes that it was Christine. He had almost thrown the phone across the room when he heard Carlotta's voice.

"I'm downstairs. I want to come up." She said flatly.

"What do you want? What else is there that you want to take from me?" Erik growled, standing upright as he began to pace his room. He was entertaining the idea of allowing Carlotta into his underground garage, there was the possibility she would get caught in one of his traps or illusions, but he dismissed the thought as Carlotta spoke next.

"My _album_. Now that we're together, don't you think we ought to get started? I want to see what you've written for me." She answered easily, and Erik could imagine the dark grin she would have on her face.

"I don't have anything for you, Carlotta." He snapped.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts? I think it's a bit late for that. Besides, everybody's talking about us!" Carlotta brushed off, continuing on. "Haven't you seen the news?"

It took Erik a moment before he could move his feet, but he had scurried off into the living room, holding a hand over his mouth as he turned on the TV, switching through a few channels until he found the one Carlotta had told him to watch. Erik stared in horror as he watched a single female presenter finish a story on some new movie hitting the box office, to reveal her new topic.

_Erik Destler dumps vlogger for Carlotta Guidicelli_

Erik closed his eyes as he listened to the presenter talk about Christine, and there had been something in the way she had spoken Christine's name that made Erik want to scream and tear his hair out. Erik gave pitiful little cries, his eyes filling with tears as he gripped the phone tightly. His skin felt hot and tight, and he sank to his feet, sitting on the floor as he leant back against the couch, in front of Christine's place. He clutched at his chest, staring madly around him, wide eyed as he tried to clear his mind from the sudden shock. Christine would know by now, she would have seen all of the reports. There was no way she could avoid the newspapers and television, and she would _hate_ him. Hate him for what he had done to her. He had taken her soul, twisted her thoughts, and made an illusion of what could have been. Christine, in her innocence, had devoted herself to him, and he had turned her away. What would Christine think when she discovered that Erik was now immediately dating Carlotta? Christine would be confused, she'd feel betrayed, and Erik hated himself for crushing her. Erik had hoped that Carlotta would have been merciful enough to give him some time, to let Christine forget about him, but it was obvious now that Carlotta was never planning to do that. She was going to force every imaginable horror upon Erik, she would break his spirit and bruise Christine's, all just so she could have her limelight. Christine would think horribly of him, for sure. It was over, there was no chance of his ever earning her forgiveness. Carlotta was listening, on the other end of the phone, and she was laughing mercilessly.

"I'm so glad I got to hear this... The sound of your heart breaking." Carlotta whispered. "It's like music to me. I wish _that_ could be on my album."

Erik had hidden his face in his hands, battling the oncoming headache that was stirring in the back of his mind.

_I am no good for you, Christine, and I deserve to be with scum, like her. I do not want to write this for her, it should be you singing my songs. I hate you, Carlotta. I hate you more than any one person in my entire life, and it is an act of charity that I do not merely dispose of you now. You will pay for everything you have done to me, and to Christine. And then... and then I can rest. Oh Christine, it is your name written on my heart, you put it there when you taught it how to beat again._ Erik thought, before wearily placing the phone to his ear.

"Carlotta, I have no mood for these games of yours." Erik spat. "You will know when I require your _assistance."_

_"_And I am not in the mood for your games either,_Erik_. I was under the impression that you could write an album in under a week."

"I can, and _do_."

"Then I expect you to have some songs written for me by the end of next week. I'd like to have it released _before_ Christmas, if you aren't planning on wasting any more of my time." Carlotta ridiculed.

"Fine." Erik agreed, between gritted teeth and clenched fists.

"Remember that_ I_ am the one in control, _not you_. I could squish you like a bug, and it would make me very happy to do so, so you had better consider the consequences of your actions, if you don't want Christine finding out what an ugly, depraved freak you are." She paused, chuckling to herself. "Tell me something, how were you _ever_ planning on having a normal relationship with her? Did you really think you could make it work? Did you think you could ride off into the sunset with her? Only white knights get to save the princess, not the _ogre_."

"What does it matter..." Erik whispered feebly. "She's gone."

"Oh, now Erik," She sighed, brushing off his misery. "Don't get all mopey on me. Yes, your little doll is gone, but do you think she would have wanted a mannequin like you? Just accept the inevitable. She was playing you for a fool, and you fell, hook, line and sinker. At least I'm being honest about my intentions. And you know that I could give you more _pleasure_ than she could ever dream of."

"You will not speak of her that way." Erik warned her. "You will not mention her in my presence again, do you understand?"

"Good thing I am not in your presence, then." Carlotta answered curtly. "I thought she'd be interesting to watch, you know, because of her '_videos_', but I'm actually quite disappointed. Not a _single_ peep from her. Well, I can't blame her, I'd be pretty busy too if I had the arm candy she has-"

Erik's heart froze. "...What did you say?"

Carlotta didn't answer for a second, and Erik waited for her to respond, his eye twitching as he listened to her light breathing through the phone. She sighed happily, and moaned, "She hasn't come out of her flat since she arrived. I don't know what you said to the girl, but it must have been quite brutal. Not even a day had passed before some new boy toy came calling for her. And from what I can tell, he hasn't left yet. He's very good looking, I'd be jealous if I were you."

"Boy..." Erik mumbled to himself, closing his eyes.

It had to have been Raoul. Yes, of course it would be. Of course he would be handsome. He would be charming, and supportive, and his hands would touch Christine and she would _let_ him. Christine would let him hold her, and she would cry, and the blithering idiot would try to take advantage of her vulnerable state. He would get to stroke her hair, make her tea, tuck her into bed, and she would... she would...

Erik couldn't bring himself to think any more on the subject, he didn't think his heart could take the strain of being forced to think of such alarming scenarios. He wanted Christine to be happy, even if it meant being in the arms of another man, one who could kiss her and take her for walks, but it made Erik feel very small and very alone. Christine would be happy, now that her life would return to the way it had been before they had met. She would no longer have to amuse the decrepit old corpse that loved her secretly. Christine had said she had been scared of Carlotta. Wasn't it rather _just_ then, that he should be dating Carlotta? Erik had scared Christine too, he had frightened her and hurt her, both physically and mentally, and she was probably relieved to find herself away from him. Would Christine wish him happiness in his new 'relationship', the way that Erik wished it for her? Would she think of them two of them together, would it make her feel sad? Erik wished he could look at Christine, just for a moment. He wanted to see for himself, just what his actions had done to Christine.

* * *

Thank you all for being so supportive and patient! I'll have the next chapter out tomorrow!


	64. Chapter 64

**_Taylor Swift's 'Haunted'_**

_You and I walk a fragile line_  
_I have known it all this time_  
_but I never thought I'd live to see it break_  
_It's getting dark and it's all too quiet_  
_And I can't trust anything now_  
_And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake_

_Oh, I'm holding my breath_  
_Won't lose you again_  
_something's made your eyes go cold_

_Come on, come on, don't leave me like this_  
_I thought I had you figured out_  
_Something's gone terribly wrong_  
_You're all I wanted_  
_Come on, come on, don't leave me like this_  
_I thought I had you figured out_  
_Can't breathe whenever you're gone_  
_Can't turn back now, I'm haunted_

_Stood there and watched you walk away_  
_From everything we had_  
_But I still mean every word I said to you_  
_He would try to take away my pain_  
_And he just might make me smile_  
_But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead_

* * *

Christine hadn't been able to get a hold of Nadir, but she did manage to get through to Raoul when she caught him on his break. He had answered, very surprised to find out that Christine was already back in London. He swore aloud when she spoke of what had happened, and threatened to kill Erik, but his words meant nothing. Raoul was too good a person to ever hurt someone intentionally. To her surprise, he was completely understanding. He didn't blame her, he didn't accuse her of anything, he just left work to come and see her. Christine didn't want him to be understanding though, it only made her feel worse. As though it really was her fault, as though she _should_ have seen it coming. Raoul had warned her, he had said to keep away from him. Was it obvious to everyone but her, that this was always going to happen? At the party in New York, Nadir had asked her to be patient, but what if he had just told her that to placate her? Just so she would continue showing Erik kindness. Had Nadir wanted her to leave? But what of Erik? He loved her. He _did_, she knew it, as sure she knew her own heart. It sang for him, but she didn't think _she_ could sing again. It was hard to even speak.

She must have rung Nadir a hundred times in that one day, but he never answered. Christine stopped calling. It was driving her insane, and had it not been for the time difference, she would have carried on trying to reach him. She couldn't understand though why Nadir had done this. Why would he refuse her calls? What did he have to gain by such an action? What was it that he was trying to lose?

Christine had been feeding Paul when Raoul had turned up with shopping bags filled with food and ice cream, some tissues and a few bottles of alcohol, asking about the car out front. She explained that Erik had given her a chauffeur, and Raoul rolled his eyes, sneering as he trashed Erik's actions. Christine ignored his comments and scolded him for leaving work. He laughed it off, telling her that Edward understood. Christine was mortified. Had Raoul told everyone of what had happened at work? Christine wasn't sure if it even mattered now. In a few days, _everyone_ would know that they were no longer together. Nonetheless, she was thankful that Edward understood. He had always been so supportive of her videos, he often liked to watch them, as long as it didn't get in the way of her work, which it never did. She only vlogged when there were hardly any customers, and she wasn't shy about doing it in front of the other girls. They would turn quiet whenever Christine pulled her camera out, and sometimes offered to take a photo of Christine besides someone's drawing, which she could post on her account. She just wished that she could have explained the situation herself to them all. Raoul told her that Edward had given her as much time as she needed off, and Christine had been stunned. It was a generous offer, but she wasn't about to just give up her life because Erik had left her. She would carry on, carried by the support of her followers, her friends, and Raoul. It would just have to be with a bruised heart and tear stained pillows. It would be hard, she wasn't denying it, but she could do it. She just wished she had her father's guidance. He would know what to say, he always had the right words, and just seeing his face would comfort her so much. But he was dead, and she had to carry on without him. Raoul pulled her into a tight embrace, and Christine had been holding back her tears on his account, but she couldn't any longer and began to cry as he stroked her hair.

Raoul had changed so much in so little time, it felt. Christine had expected him to, quite rightly, to say '_I told you so_', but he only held her as they sat on the couch together. He didn't say anything, but she could tell he was angry and upset as well. He had always been so considerate of Christine feelings, and he took her sadness to heart, as if it was his own pain. Raoul was so thoughtful that way. He had his arm behind her back, and he was stroking her bare arm, and while it would have been soothing, it only made her think of how his hands felt compared to Erik. She couldn't tell him how much it hurt to have him there, to have him comforting and her holding her instead of Erik, but she didn't want him to leave. She needed him there, she didn't think she could cope all by herself, not again. She didn't want to tell Raoul how much Erik had hurt her, how he had made her feel, but she still couldn't ask Raoul to leave. So they sat in silence. Christine _was_ grateful that he was there, as he always would be, but she was so aware of him now, it felt awkward to have him hold her like a child. Before, Raoul and Christine had always been quite close, holding hands and such. Whenever they watched a movie, they'd share a blanket, a bowl of popcorn and they would always sit close to each other, pressed shoulder to shoulder. Now, Raoul's hands were holding her so tight, it wasn't like before when they had dated. What they had shared then had been a pale comparison to what she had shared with Erik, and Raoul would never understand that. Before, they had held hands, but Raoul had never kissed her hands. Erik did, despite the mask. Raoul had never taken such wonder in her hair, but Erik had unbraided hers and treated it like gold. Raoul had never wanted to just hold a small piece of her at all times, but Erik had pinched her dress and held it as though he was in a dream, thinking she couldn't see. Raoul had kissed her, but they had any lasting impression. She knew that with Erik, just one kiss from him, and she would never forget it. Christine tried to ignore the stabbing pain she felt when thinking about Raoul's hand on hers. It was strange, but not unwelcome. If she sat quietly, and let him hold her, she could pretend it was Erik. Her stomach twisted at the thought. She couldn't just pretend. If she did, and she believed it, it would only hurt her more when she opened her eyes.

Raoul had poured her a drink, but she refused. She was not an emotional drinker, she drank socially, not to drown her troubles away like a blues singer, but still, it was a tempting thought. Raoul offered to put a movie on, but there was nothing that she wanted to watch. He offered to make her some tea, and touched by his attempts to make her happy, agreed. Christine listened to Raoul as he began to prepare her drink, staring at the suitcases before her. She couldn't move them. She couldn't _touch_ them. They must have been packed by Erik, she reasoned. He had carried her onto the plane, so there was the chance that Erik had taken the liberty of packing her suitcases. She wondered if anything had been left behind, but she doubted it. Erik would have swept the room over to make sure. Raoul had been surprised to see a third suitcase, and asked about it. She told him that it was filled with some American chocolate, some clothes, and the other various gifts she had received from their shopping trip. She had been so surprised by all of their generosity, all of the shops they had visited had treated them like royalty, despite their nervous nature whenever Erik spoke. Raoul came back into the room, handing her the steaming cup of tea, and sat down beside her.

"Thank you." Christine murmured, sighing as she cupped her hands around the mug, still staring at the suitcases. She would have to put everything away, but she couldn't bring herself to do it just yet. It would mean that she had accepted what had happened, and she wasn't ready just yet.

"It's okay." Raoul answered quietly, reaching into one of the shopping bags that rested on the table in front of them. He pulled out a packet of biscuits, her favourites, tearing them open before offering her one. "So, do you want to talk about it?"

Christine sighed, closing her eyes as she rubbed her forehead. "Not really."

"Christine, I'm worried about you. When your dad died, it was really tough on you. I don't want you hiding away in your bedroom, I want to help you, but you need to let me in." Raoul said, taking her drink away as he removed her hand from her face. "Whatever you had with him, it's over now, he can't hurt you anymore."

"Oh, _Raoul_!" Christine cried, yanking her hand away. "You're wrong, he never hurt me. He never _would_."

Christine didn't want to tell him of when Erik had squeezed her wrists when he thought Nadir had been gossiping, or when they had been on the yacht and he had yanked her to her feet, or what had happened when Erik had woken up with her in his arms. Raoul wouldn't understand that those actions had been on impulse, that he hadn't done it on purpose. Christine had forgiven him for his mistakes, because that was all they were. Erik had been scared every single time, and he had more than apologized on each occasion. Raoul would just say horrible things about Erik, and Christine wouldn't hear a single bad word against Erik.

"But he has, Christine. I can see it on your face. You've changed." Raoul said, looking away from her.

"I know. I look a right state." Christine laughed sadly, ruffling her hair. She just wanted him to drop it.

"Christine, be serious. You're really pale, and you look like you haven't stopped crying." Raoul said, picking up a box of tissues, handing it to her. "Five days, and you look the same as you did when your dad died. I'm just concerned."

"Raoul, I'm... I'm not going to lie to you, you're right, I haven't been this depressed since my father, but I'll be fine. It's natural to be upset, how else would I know that what we had was a good thing? And believe me, I know you're concerned, but don't pretend that you're not happy. I don't know what you said to Erik when you called, but it wasn't anything nice." She said, refusing the tissues.

Raoul pursed his lips into a straight, thin line, his green eyes hardening as he watched her, lowering his hand. "I didn't say anything that he didn't need to know."

"What _did_ you tell him?" Christine asked, leaning forward.

"I don't know why it matters, it's not as though it means anything now-"

"Raoul, _tell_ me!"

"Christine, it's between me and him, and I don't want to upset you. You're getting too worked up, you need to rest." Raoul said, handing her back her tea impatiently. Christine frowned, her mouth all scrunched up in disbelief as she took the cup from him, and then placed it back on the table, annoying Raoul.

"Christine, you know I'm behind you all the way, it's been that way since we were kids, but to be honest, I _am_ glad it's over."

Christine looked up sharply. "Why? What is it about Erik that you don't approve of? You haven't met him. You can't judge him, and you're not even giving him a fail trial."

" Are _you_? You know _nothing_ about this guy. He wears a _mask_, Christine, you think that guy is _trustworthy_?" Raoul argued.

"He's been nothing be trustworthy from the very beginning. And we were still getting to know each other."

"Then what can you tell me about him? Can you tell me what he looks like?"

"No, but it doesn't matter what his face looks like, I know _him_."

"Then why is he even wearing a mask in the first place? What has he got to hide?"

Christine flinched. She was afraid that Raoul would pester her about the mask. He'd naturally be concerned, but she couldn't understand why it mattered. All that would be under the mask was only ever going to be Erik. Erik, and his blue eyes. _If only I got to see them. I wonder what shade they are. I hope they're light, like mine._ Christine thought, but it only made her chest hurt. To think she had never seen his eyes, and that she never would. Erik had mentioned making a mask, and Christine had thought about it a lot since he had mentioned it to her. A new mask, one that would let her touch him more intimately. She would have been able to see his eyes whenever he looked at her, she could have been able to see if he was upset, or tired, or grumpy, or anything, compared to the blank dead stare of the mask he wore now. He could have made a mask that would allow her to see his lips, and Christine felt her throat tighten, blinking away tears.

"Nothing." She answered, staring at the suitcases. "But to him, it's a sensitive topic. All he's known is hate, and abuse, and punishment, his whole life he's been told he's no good, when he is! He's the most spectacular human I've ever met, there's no-one like him! When I with him, I felt as though I could do anything, that I was important, that I somebody worth taking notice of, and when I wasn't with him, I felt like I was no-one, just a speck in the universe. I want to show him that he could be loved. I wanted to give him everything, I wanted to brighten his life and make it worth living. He was so sad, so afraid and so desperate for a kind word or a smile. I loved smiling at him, it made me feel as though I was helping him."

Raoul watched her, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not being a very good friend. Let's not argue anymore. I just wish I could make you feel better."

Christine smiled smiled at Raoul, squeezing his hand. "I know. Thank you for being here, it really means alot. I just wish you had the chance to meet him."

"It's alright. From the sound of our last conversation, we wouldn't have gotten on. But what about this Nadir guy, have you gotten through to him?"

"No, he's not picking up. I think Erik has asked him not to. Maybe it's for the best. I think if I heard Erik in the background, I would just crumble."

"I wouldn't blame you. It would be tough for anyone. And not to mention his voice, it's so incredible that it's creepy." Raoul admitted, nodding. "It sounds kind of scary too, really deep and dark."

"It wasn't always dark. Sometimes, it was light and happy, or playful, or gentle. He has a beautiful speaking voice, but I wish I had heard him sing. I bet it would have been incredible." Christine sighed, frowning. She hadn't been able to stop thinking of the voice that had sang her name before. She had told Raoul about the voice, and he asked if the voice had been Erik's, and Christine wondered too.

"I honestly don't know. That voice, it was like a waterfall, or a babbling brook. It was so persuasive, and gentle, and loving. It was the saddest thing I had ever heard but it lifted me to places I had never been before. I felt like I was flying, as though I was running through open flames and didn't care. I felt like as though I was being carried, though looking back on it now, I suppose I _was_ being carried, by Erik."

"I still can't believe he did that." Raoul said, frowning. "That's so weird."

"That's so Erik." Christine answered, shrugging lightly, as if she didn't care, but she did.

Over the next few days, Raoul had elected himself Christine's caretaker, and he had not once left Christine's side. It was reassuring to know that he was there, sleeping on the couch while she wrestled with her bedsheets, twisting her pillows in her hands as she dreamt of Erik holding her. Raoul would wake her each morning, made sure she ate, and tried to get her to talk more. She couldn't though. She felt numb from just thinking about her dreams. It was usually the both of them in the botanical gardens, sleeping on the blanket, surrounded completely by the cushions as Erik held her close to him. There had once been large giant peacocks there as well, but Christine hadn't known what to make of that. It was painful to wake up each morning, and she wanted to tell Raoul off for doing so, but she didn't have the energy. Each day that was passing by was like she was reliving the same nightmare. They just watched TV, but Christine couldn't follow any of the storylines, her mind was split between Raoul trying to make her happy, the agonizing waiting to hear back from Nadir, and the terrible thought that none of this would have happened if she had not made the video that had started it all. But that only brought disturbing thoughts of never having met Erik. She would never have known how happy one person could make her. They would eat dinner, and Raoul could try and get her to think about her videos, but it was difficult checking her messages. She hadn't looked at her phone, fearful that seeing Erik's photo would drive her mad. Raoul had taken her phone, flicking through it as Christine tried to eat a toasted sandwich with ham and cheese, and his face had turned sour, his eyes widening as he read something.

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, and she knew what Raoul had read. There were bound to be reports of their break-up, and of course her followers would want her to talk about it. She would have to plan her next few words carefully. Erik would be watching. It kind of thrilled her to think he would be watching. It was a way of saying that she was safe, she was okay, and that she loved him. It would be difficult to translate that into a video that her followers would accept without embarrassing the both of them. But then Raoul had passed her phone, and she stared in horror as she read the headline of an report that Raoul had clicked on.

_Erik Destler dumps vlogger for Carlotta Guidicelli_.

Christine had been sick. She had made a mad dash for her bathroom, nimbly stepping around Paul as she held her hands to her mouth in horror. It was wrong, they were _wrong_! Erik wasn't dating Carlotta. It wasn't possible! Erik loved her. She kept repeating it in her head, leaning over the toilet as Raoul rushed in to hold back her hair. Christine cried horribly, wiping her lips with her hands with disgust at herself, was she the only one in torment? How could Erik date Carlotta, of all people? He had sworn himself away from her, he had hated her, it made no sense! Why was he dating her?

Raoul handed her some tissues so she could clean her face and blow her nose, and she thanked him numbly, sitting on the floor as she leaned against the bathroom door. She needed to be alone. She couldn't take Raoul's pity any longer, and she needed fresh air. She told Raoul that she would be going to visit her father's grave. Raoul had started to grab his things, but she stopped him. She needed to visit him alone, and Raoul's overbearing nature had started to frustrate her. It wasn't the same as when Erik had been with her, she had welcomed every second spent with him. Raoul had tried to argue with her, telling her that she needed his protection from the media, but there was no point. There was nothing he could do against them, and she hadn't seen any photographers so far. She was sure that it was because of Erik, and she thanked him for that. She was sure that one or two would come along eventually, but at least for now, she could have from peace from the. Raoul was upset but Christine was adamant, and there was nothing that could change her mind. He helped her freshen up, picking some clothes out for her, and Christine thanked him, despite being annoyed that he hadn't listened to her. She looked at herself in her mirror when she was washing her face. Her eyes looked so distant, so far away. She stood still, watching herself as though she had never seen herself before. It was as though she didn't recognize the person standing in front of her. It could have been a different person and she wouldn't have known. She tried to put on make-up, but nothing could hide her red eyes and her sniffly nose.

She had stepped out into the sunlight, and it had been so strange at first. She had gotten used to the sunlight in New York, and it was an average day now. She had looked down, and seen the driver stepping out of the car, ready to open the passenger door for her. She stared at him morosely, and went down to join him.

"Hello. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name before." Christine said, shaking his hand before putting her hands into her jacket's pockets.

The driver sniffed. "It's Mr. Hollis, Miss Daae." He said, hiding his annoyance.

"No, I meant your first name." She said. It was a tactic she had picked up on whenever she forgot someone's name.

He smirked. "It's Connor."

"It's nice to meet you, Connor. I'm sorry about yesterday, I was a bit rude to you when I shouldn't have been."

"It's alright. You've had a hard time. I'm here to make it easier for you." He said, opening the door for her.

"Thank you. And you can call me Christine, if that's alright with you." She said, before stepping into the car.

She didn't hear his reply, but she could see him smiling, and she smiled weakly as well as she got in. She gave him her destination, and he set off, chatting briefly about the traffic today, but he soon left her alone with her thoughts. She had brought a plastic bag, so she could clean her father's grave, and she was going to the florists to get her father a rose to lay on his grave. She wouldn't feel any relief until she was standing before his tombstone, and she was hoping to receive some revelation, some sign that he was watching over her. Was he ashamed of her, or did he pity her? She just wanted to see him so badly, she would have done anything to see him, to speak with him. She wished she could know what was on Erik's mind. Just what had possessed to announce that he was dating Carlotta? Was that why Nadir had refused to talk to her? Did Nadir know this was going to happen? It was killing her, as she felt such horrible pains in her stomach as she dug her nails into her thighs, refusing to cry. She would not cry anymore. She was not some weak, frightened little animal, she was capable of living a life outside of a man, she was not some damsel would need rescuing. She would be strong. She had promised to be strong for Erik, and she would be! She would not sink. She would not falter in her path. She just hoped that Erik was happy on his

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me. I'm so sorry that you have to suffer these chapters, believe me, it's hard for me to even write! But your reviews inspire me to gon on, I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Thank you everyone!**

**AAAAAHHHHHHH. I DELETED THE LAST CHAPTER. Okay, I'm taking a few days to go back and rewrite chapter 19 and the last chapters. I'm sorry. I will also try and fit in some time to go back and rewrite some of the chapters. I will be back as soon as I can, I want to make it absolutely perfect. In the meanwhile, I will be looking into some way of backing up my work, and I'm also interested into looking for a beta reader, would anyone know how to do that.**

**I'm so sorry, but I do't know what happened :( It's so frustrating! I'm just having a really bad day I guess :(**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	65. Chapter 65

**_AC/DC's 'Evil Walks'_**

_Black shadow hangin' over your shoulder_  
_Black mark up against your name_  
_Your green eyes couldn't get any colder_  
_There's bad poison runnin' thru your veins_  
_Evil walks behind you_  
_Evil sleeps beside you_  
_Evil talks arouse you_  
_Evil walks behind you_

_Black widow weavin' evil notion_  
_Dark secret's bein' spun in your web_  
_Good men goin' down in your ocean_  
_They can't swim cos their tied to your bed_  
_Evil walks behind you_  
_Evil sleeps beside you_  
_Evil talks arouse you_  
_Evil walks behind you_  
_You're just crying wolf_  
_I sometimes wonder where you park your broom_  
_Oh black widow_

* * *

Nadir was exhausted, he would have given anything to be back in Iran, wrapped up in his Amira's arms. She would have kissed his forehead, and smiled so sweetly at him. Nadir had always been very thankful for his beautiful wife, and even the memory of her bloodied corpse could not mar the image of her wonderful childhood sweetheart. She had always known what to say, what words would comfort him. Even when they had been small children, she had always been the voice of reason. He needed her now, more than anything. He needed to hear his love tell him that everything would be alright. Nadir knew, however, that it was not the case. Nadir felt so weak, and trying to stand up to Erik even when he was in a jesting mood, was a trying ordeal. It was more difficult when his voice had threatened to leave him, but he still fought to say the words that would make Erik stop his crazy endeavors. While he had been under Erik's spell, in Christine's bedroom, Nadir had tried to force out the words that Erik needed to hear before it was too late, but the only thought that had been in his head had been the five words that Erik had commanded of him. _Shut up. Sit down. Stay. _It was all he could think about, like a record that kept skipping. He hadn't been able to hear Erik's next few words clearly, but from what he could gather, Erik was sending Christine away for good. He had watched in muted horror as Erik began to sweep Christine's room, muttering to himself, switching furious bellowing and pitiful snivelling. Erik had left the room, dragging the two large suitcases behind him, the smaller suitcase tucked under one arm, leaving Nadir to sit on the bed as he shook with indignation, stewing in his own thoughts until Antoinette, the hotel manager, had found him. She had stared at him with surprise written across her face, until she collected herself and took his shoulder, shaking him until Nadir had kindly asked her to stop. Antoinette told him that Erik had informed her that he was still here, that Christine was checking out, and she had come to see for herself. Nadir brushed off her offer of getting him some water, and he buried his head in his hands, hardly accepting the news that Erik had told him. Christine was gone. There was nothing that he could do, and Erik believed him to be at fault. He believed that Nadir had been the cause of his misery, and Nadir wished vehemently that it was not the case. Erik had blamed him for bringing Christine into his life, as if Nadir had planned it all.

Nadir couldn't even believe it had all happened in the first place. He had been so happy when Christine had waltzed into Erik's life. Nadir had hoped that Erik would no longer play the role of the troubled hermit, and would come to recognize the good in himself. Despite Erik's history, deep inside, there was a man who longed to be loved, to be normal, to be accepted, and Christine offered those things without thought. Nadir wanted Erik to see himself the way that Christine saw him, but now that she was gone, there was no knowing of what Erik thought now. Christine had been so understanding, so forgiving and compassionate, Nadir had prayed every single night that nothing would happen to destroy the delicate bond between them both. But now it was too late.

Nadir had not given up just yet, however. He had always been respectful of Erik's wishes, no matter how strange or how demanding they were. When Erik had told him to stay away, Nadir did so, not out of fear for his safety, as he would have continued to barrage Erik with questions no matter how many threats he threw at him, but because there were questions that needed to be answered, away from Erik's uncontrollable anger. Erik had told Nadir not to speak to Christine, and it was to his great shame that he did not ignore that one request. Christine had tried to phone him, several times in fact, and each time Nadir had stared at his phone with guilt. If he had the strength, he would have answered. He was not afraid of Erik, but of Christine. Nadir didn't want to hear her voice, he didn't want to hear the strangled sobbing, the useless pleaing and the one question he feared above all else. Why? Nadir did not have any answers for her. Erik was a riddle, one that he would never understand, not even if he had the whole of time to consider the masked prodigy. He avoided Christine's calls as best as he could, Sorrelli giving him confused looks as she carried out his orders. There was no answer he could give Sorrelli that would please her, she knew what had happened between Erik and Christine, the vague details of their 'break-up', but she didn't seem to understand the horror that Nadir had felt when Christine's name appeared on his phone's screen. If he were to answer, then it would only her, as he did not have all of the facts, and it would not help to repair the damage that had been done.

It was for the best that Nadir kept away from Erik's apartment, Erik needed time to cool down, to starting thinking straight. Only then could they come together, to join forces against Carlotta. Erik could not stay angry forever, and he would see that Nadir would be able to help him. Nadir had promised Erik, on leaving Iran, that he would stay by his side until the end. Until he had all the facts, Nadir hoped that the messages that he sent to Erik would help. Nadir sent him notes, emails, anything to grab his attention and make Erik see sense. He wrote about how Christine had told him her true feelings for Erik. He wrote of how no matter what Carlotta had done, Nadir would continue to support his friend, and lastly, he wrote of how he was sorry that he had missed something when they had left Iran, despite the fact that Nadir truly had no idea what Erik was talking about. Erik did not reply to any of his messages. Nadir wasn't too surprised no doubt his mind would have been on other things, instead of his inbox.

Nadir had regretted not speaking to Christine when he discovered the horrific news of Erik's and Carlotta's '_relationship_'. Nadir was flabbergasted, absolutely speechless as he watched his TV in his office, and he had almost stormed straight over to Erik's apartment to ask him what the hell he thought was doing, but the answer came to him. Erik would not date Carlotta willingly, he would never have in a million years let go of Christine to date the incorrigible temptress, and it was crazy to think that Erik had any choice in the matter. Carlotta was obviously blackmailing him into a relationship for power and fame, and Erik had given in. Whatever it was that Carlotta had, it must indeed have been something serious. Nadir had originally thought that Carlotta had somehow found out about Erik's past, and was threatening to tell Christine, but it was becoming more and more clear that she had something psychical, something she could dangle in front of Erik and torture him. From what he could understand from Erik's deluded wittering, there had been some evidence of Erik's presence in Iran that had been overlooked, though how it had happened, Nadir wasn't sure. There were so many questions that needed to be answered, his head was reeling from the constant buzzing of his curious thoughts. Nadir decided that it was time for him to come out of retirement. In Iran, before Erik, Nadir had been a detective, the Daroga of Mazandaran, and he had taken his role seriously. Now, it seemed as though his talents would come in handy once more. He would get to the bottom of the erratic incident, and he would bring the star crossed lovers back together, no matter what. It was difficult however, Erik had been so vague with his accusations, though it was nothing new. Erik, when angry, often didn't think straight.

Nadir had received plenty of messages himself, from numerous celebrities, all wondering what had happened. It seemed none of them took Carlotta seriously, and Nadir agreed with them. Tori had even texted him, using some very crude words to describe Carlotta, calling Erik an idiot, and inquired after Christine. Nadir didn't answer any of the messages, it was not his place to speak for Erik, or for Christine, and he focused his energy on the trial ahead of him.

It was challenging, knowing where to start, but he decided that the best place to begin his investigation was the Winchester. There must have been someone who had handled Carlotta while she was staying there, someone who had interacted with her. Even speaking to the maids would have been helpful, anything that they would be able to recall about the woman's room would at least give him some insight. For the first few days, he had interviewed as many of the staff as he could handle, interviewing them one by one in the Antoinette's office. Sorrelli accompanied him each time, though she waited outside the office, twiddling away on his phone as she handled the day to day workload, taking over for him as he ignored the pressing demands of the world outside of their bubble. It was a comfort to have her there, occasionally coming in to hand him cups of coffee, providing him with food, though he never asked for it. Whatever she thought was happening, she somehow accepted that it was important, and she did as she was told. She had admitted, over the lunch they shared, that she had been concerned for Christine, and was happy and willing to help in any way she could. Nadir had thanked her, patting her hand.

Nadir had questioned everyone, from the maids to the bellhops, but none of them had the answers that he wanted to hear. They were all very nervous, but they did not seem to show any form of guilt, they did not look fearful or uneasy, and Nadir believed them. They were speaking the truth, they knew nothing, and as the days went on, Nadir was beginning to give up hope of ever finding any useful information. He did discover, however, that Carlotta was still staying in the hotel. Carlotta had apparently forbidden anyone to enter her room, not even a single cleaner to change her sheets. There had been a few visitors, but no-one of any significant importance. There was Piangi, one of her vile little companions, a reporter, but there had been no-one else. Nadir had taken a look at her bill, but there was nothing on there either that drew his eye. He had expected to see plenty of phone calls having been made, but it appeared that the only thing that was on her bill was the long list of movies that she watched during her stay, and the food she ordered from room service. She had not left the room for any reason, as far as Nadir would find out from the staff. It must have meant that whatever evidence she was hiding, it was still in that room. She would have left it alone for a second. Nadir could easily have ransacked the room for the documentation, taking the master keycard instead of having to break his way in, but there was no doubt in his mind that whatever it was she was hiding would have be hidden in the hotel safe that was in her room, and that Carlotta would be the only one who would know the combination that she had set.

It was on the third day of his investigation that he had watched from the manager's office Carlotta approach the reception desk, looking smug as she smiled, baring her teeth like a tiger as she proudly strutted across the lobby. Nadir had raced out of his chair, leaving behind a befuddled member of staff as he met up with Carlotta. She was wearing a tight, burgundy coloured dress, that showed off her plentiful figure, her wavy black curls rolling over her shoulder like a waterfall. As much as Nadir detested the woman, he did have to appreciate her beauty. She was a dangerous mix of confidence seduction, her provocative attitude charming every man and woman in the room, as all eyes raised to see the siren that had appeared before them. Nadir reached the desk just as she did, and Carlotta had sneered at him as she peered over her shoulder, her lip curling as Nadir watched, similarly disgusted with his view.

"Hello Daroga." She said sardonically, taking a few cards from the girl at the reception desk, who stared at them both nervously. "I was just thinking about you."

Nadir tried not to flinch at the mention of his previous title, and instead whispered, "Whatever it is you have done to Erik, I beg you to stop. This will not end well for you."

"But it will. I have planned every single detail out, to every end. I have thought of every possible scenario. In the end, I will win, and Erik will lose. There will be no happy ending for him, not if I have anything to say about it." Carlotta remarked, smiling at the young receptionist. The girl just blushed, lowering her eyes as she answered the ringing phone.

"Carlotta, _please-_"

"Shouldn't you be congratulating us? We're going to be the happiest couple in Hollywood. I would have thought that being his best friend you would be happy for him." Carlotta smiled darkly, staring at him from under her long lashes. "We do owe you so much, after all. Me, especially. Without you, none of this would have been possible. The moment you walked into the room and... I was going to say '_saved my neck_', but you didn't _really_, did you? When that happened, you changed everything for me. I should thank you really. I won't though, I don't thank fools. You should know that it _is_ because of _you_ that Erik is unhappy."

"Stop this madness, Carlotta. For your own safety, I implore you to give up on your revenge. You will not achieve nothing and lose everything." Nadir warned her, keeping his voice low as the receptionist pretended to ignore the both of them.

Carlotta smiled broadly as she flicked through the cards, turning on her heels to exit the hotel through the front doors. "It's hard to lose everything when you start out with nothing."

"I would hardly say you have _nothing_, Carlotta." Nadir argued, following her.

"Nadir, I am being courteous to you only because you saved my life that night, but it ends there." Carlotta said, sighing as she stopped to look at him. She stared at him seriously for a moment, and asked slowly, "Why _are_ you that freak's friend? That's the one thing I don't understand. How can you continue to aid that masked monster, after everything he has done? You saw for yourself that he can't be trusted when in alone, let alone in people's company. How can you let him go on masquerading, as though he's done nothing wrong?"

"Carlotta, you do not know the whole story, I think. If you knew, then you would understand."

"I don't _want_ to understand him, Nadir, I want to _destroy him_. That man should be locked up and imprisoned for the rest of his life, and I will not rest until I have broken every bone in his body." Carlotta spat. "And damn anyone who gets in my way."

"And Christine? Does she have to suffer too?"

Carlotta rolled her eyes. "It's her own fault for getting in the way. I gave her the chance to come out of this clean, but the girl must be touched in the head or something. But it doesn't matter anymore, she's not the one Erik is dating now."

"No-one believes that you two are truly dating." Nadir insisted. "Everyone knows that you're just using him. Everyone could see how happy they were together-"

"-And everyone will just have to deal with it. Did you really think that I would care what other people think?" Carlotta interrupted, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her purse. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm afraid, I'm just heading over to Erik's to see how my new album is going. It's been lovely chatting with you, we must do it again sometime."

Nadir stared at her, wide eyed and open mouthed as Carlotta strode out of the hotel arrogantly, laughing as she stepped out through the front doors out onto the street. Nadir bowed his head, rubbing his forehead as he turned back towards the manager's office. He looked up, his eyes locking on Antoinette as she stood behind the reception desk, speaking with the young lady who had handed Carlotta her messages. Something was not right, as they both looked incredibly worked up. It appeared as though Antoinette was reprimanding the girl, who for some reason was taking it to heart. The girl, who he had not paid much attention to when speaking with Carlotta, was trying to hide her tears, her hands pressed to her mouth, while Antoinette looked sorely disappointed, her lips pursed as she towered over the small girl. Nadir narrowed his eyes, watching the interaction between the two women. He recognized the girl, he realized, after a second. The young woman had been with Sorrelli, waiting outside Christine's room, on the night of the party. They had only spoken for a few minutes, but Nadir confident that it was the same woman. The girl's name was Meg, if he wasn't mistaken, and she had accompanied Christine and Sorrelli on Erik's behest, before the party.

Nadir groaned. The girl had been unusually jumpy at the sight of both himself and Carlotta, and it was no wonder why now. He shook his head. It would be worth interviewing her now, he thought, sighing as he neared the desk, making Ms. Giry turn quiet as she looked up at him.

"Nadir." She greeted solemnly, her eyes switching back to the young girl, whose back was turned to face him.

"Antoinette."

"I believe my daughter has something she wishes to talk to you about." Antoinette said, crossing her arms.

"Your daughter?" Nadir asked, blinking.

"Yes. _Don't_ you, Meg?" Antoinette thundered as she glared at the small, trembling girl.

"But _mom_-"

"_Now_, Meg."

The girl turned around, tears in her eyes as she stammered, "I-I, I'm sorry, It all just happened so fast!"

She had started to wring her hands, her eyes darting between her mother and Nadir as she sniffed. Nadir closed his eyes, quelling the rising sense of exasperation, and sighed, "Perhaps we ought to step into your office, Antoinette."

The three of them marched into the office, and Nadir couldn't help but notice the look on Sorelli's face as they approached. She poked her head around the door, spoke a few words to the member of staff that had been waiting there, and showed him out, her eyes locking with Meg's as they entered the office. Antoinette went to sit behind her desk, red cheeked as Meg and Nadir sat before her. Antoinette took a deep breath, glaring at her daughter as she proceeded to speak.

"I am embarrassed to say, that my daughter has had a hand in the fiasco that has befallen Miss Daae and Mr Destler. She is a foolish girl, but we mustn't forget that it is Carlotta who is to blame, not my daughter." She turned to look at Meg, her face turning sour. "Meg, you will start from the beginning, and you will tell Mr Kahn everything you just told me, this _instant_."

Meg nodded, staring down into her lap. Nadir shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was glad he was not the one under Antoinette's scrutiny. The girl turned towards him, and looked up at him with her big green eyes.

"Mr Kahn, I'm so sorry-"

"_Meg_." Antoinette warned.

Meg winced at the severe tone of her mother's voice, and gave a fitful sigh. "It all started when Christine went to the music awards."

* * *

**I know what you're thinking, I'm so sorry for not uploading sooner, but I've been terribly busy, writing and rewriting chapters, and well as trying to get over a nasty cold, as well as job searching, which is no fun, but I'm back now! Hopefully, this will sate your appetite!**

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me. I'm so sorry that you have to suffer these chapters, believe me, it's hard for me to even write! But your reviews inspire me to gon on, I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	66. Chapter 66

**_Pink's _****"I Don't Believe You"**

_I don't mind it_  
_I don't mind at all_  
_It's like you're the swing set and I'm the kid that falls_  
_It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried, we come to blows_  
_And every night the passion's there so it's gotta be right, right?_

_No I don't believe you_  
_When you say don't come around here no more_  
_I won't remind you_  
_You said we wouldn't be apart_  
_No, I don't believe you_  
_When you say you don't need me anymore_  
_So don't pretend_  
_To not love me at all_

_I don't mind it_  
_I still don't mind at all_  
_It's like one of those bad dreams when you can't wake up_  
_Looks like you've given up, you've had enough_  
_But I want more no I won't stop_  
_'cause I just know you'll come around... right?_

* * *

Christine had always hoped that the man she would all in love with would be a good man, one who would care for her and protect her, someone who she could respect, who she would be able to share all of her secrets and fears with. For most of her life, the men she had dated had all been far from what she had been expecting. In high school, boys had flirted with her, but they had no real plans of commitment, and Christine would never have shared her body with someone who wouldn't appreciate it, not like the way that Erik had. Her father would say that one day, she would find someone to share her body with, as well as her soul, and he had always looked so wistful. Christine knew he thought of her mother in those times, when he would talk of love and purpose of life. Her father believed that love was the single greatest adventure that any person could experience, apart from music, and he had always insisted that Christine would understand what he meant when she too fell in love. He would say that love was like lightning, when it struck, it struck hard, and left a lasting impression. Christine felt as though she had been standing in the rain for years, waiting to be hit by lightning, and when Erik entered her life, he had definitely made an impression. Christine just couldn't understand why Erik had done this to her. There was no logical explanation that Christine could come up with. Erik hated Carlotta, he had made that very clear, and Christine couldn't bring herself to think about the two of them. It made her head spin just thinking about it, and every rational thought flew from her head as she tried to reason with herself that there must have been some reason as to why Erik had deserted her to be with Carlotta, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of a good enough reason. Nothing should have been able to tear them apart, she had told him that she would never leave him, and he had promised that he would never hurt her. But he had. He had hurt her more deeply than she had believed was possible, and with each step she took, it was as though she back tripping over pebbles. As sad as she felt with their break-up, anger and disappointment also resided in her. They had promised each other the world, she had told him she loved him, and still, without consulting her, without including her in his decision, he had taken away the only future she wanted.

Walking through the cemetery, armed with red roses, she held back her tears as she approached her father's gravestone. She wiped away the dead leaves that had scattered there, kneeling before it as she pulled the dead roses that drooped limply in the brass vase that rested there, to replace them with the fresh scarlet carsons she had brought with her, stuffing the wilting flowers into the plastic bag she pulled out of her pocket. She arranged the flowers, sniffling as she tried to keep a smile on her face, though it was a grim smile. Though she had never been one to believe in an afterlife, she had always believed that her father had never truly left her. He was dead, but when he had been alive, he would tell her stories of her mother, and how she watched over the two of them, and how he would watch over her when he eventually would pass away. She would always turn the conversation away from such unpleasant discussions, making him some tea to ease his mind, but his words comforted her now. If he truly was watching over her, she would not let her unhappiness show, not now that she was before his grave. Christine would smile through the storm, and wait for lightning.

Christine looked over towards the entrance of the cemetery, where Mr. Hollis stood beside the Rolls Royce, his arms crossed as he watched out for any reporters. She hadn't asked him to, he had offered to keep away anyone who might disturb her, and she had thanked him, confident that no-one would come to see her. She had no story to tell, at least, not one she would tell willingly. She would tell Raoul, in time, but nothing could make her recount in detail everything that had happened between Erik and herself. She returned her attention back to her father's grave, and began to clean the engraved letters, brushing away any grime she found. She sighed, her fingers hesitating over her father's name as she read it.

_Gustave Daae_

_1948 - 2007_

_Beloved husband and father_

Christine sighed lightly, and pulled her hands away, to let them rest in her lap. She stared down at her wrist, where Erik's silver bracelet sat, and she pinched the infinity loop between her fingers. As hard as she tried, she could not keep Erik's words from her mind, as she recalled what he had said to the gentleman in Tiffanys. _She has me now_.

Christine took a few deep breaths as she scrunched up her nose, tears rolling over her cheeks as she looked up at her father's tombstone. It was so cold and lifeless, and it made her think of Erik's mask. She tried to block the memory of how the mask had felt against her lips, but found she couldn't.

"Hello father." She whispered gravely. "I... I..."

Christine took a haggard breath, hanging her head as she squeezed her eyes shut. How could she even begin to describe her feelings? She wasn't even sure of them herself, she was so conflicted and every word stuck to her tongue and refused to be spoken.

"I hope you understand. I hope that you don't think me stupid. Have I been? Was it wrong of me to give my heart to him? He needed it, father. He needed _me_. You said that love healed everything, and I honestly believe that my love helped him, but I don't think it was enough. What if my love _wasn't_ enough for him? I know I am not a strong person, I know what people say about me, but I love him, and I know that he... He loves me too."

Christine rubbed her nose, and sniffed. "I need your help, father. I don't understand what has happened to me. I thought everything was going so well. We were getting so close, and though he had secrets, they were _his_ secrets to keep. What made Erik so frightened of trusting people, even those who love him? I could have made him happy, father, and he needed it, more than anyone I've ever known. He's so lonely, so afraid of being hurt... I told him everything, I confessed my feelings and he ignored them. He still sent me away. Nadir was right. He thought... He _must_ have thought... Oh father, I would never do anything to hurt him, I would never tease him, I would never have said those words if I did not believe them."

Christine pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. "I don't think Raoul gets why I'm so upset, after a few days of meeting Erik. I know it's crazy, I've known him for barely two weeks, but those days I spent with him, they were the best days of my life. Even after everything, I'd do it all again. Raoul seems so against Erik, even before we broke up. I think that if he had met Erik, then he'd understand why I'm so upset. I think if _you_ had met him, you would have liked him, but still, I wonder what you would have thought of him. He's so strange, but I loved that strangeness."

Christine's smile disappeared. "I loved _him_."

She wept openly, bowing her head as she hid her face in her hands. "I love him, I will _always_ love him. But why father, why _Carlotta_? Why _her_? She was cruel to him, she was horrible and now they're dating. It's not right! She doesn't love him, she doesn't deserve him! _Forgive_ me father, but I _hate_ her."

Christine pulled her hands away, and stared the tombstone with teary eyes. "I never thought I could hate anyone as much as I hate her. It just doesn't make any sense. Why would he _do_ this? Why would he break his own heart like that? Why would he break _my_ heart like that?"

Christine looked back down at her bracelet. It felt so heavy against her, and it felt as though her heart was wrapped tightly in the silver chains, squeezing it until it cried for mercy.

"Please, father, help me to understand. _Please_, father." She begged, placing her hands on the gravestone. "_Please_."

She rested her forehead against the cold stone tablet, and closed her eyes. She was so tired, so very tired. Her joints ached, and her throat was still sore from before, when she had run into her bathroom to throw up. She wished Raoul hadn't shown her the announcement of Erik and Carlotta's new relationship. Did Erik know she would see it? Did he want her to see it?

_It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Neither of us will be happy. _Christine thought bitterly. _How can Carlotta be happy? What does she think will happen between the two of them? It will never be anything like what we had. Maybe that's why he's dating her. Because he thinks it's easier to date someone who can't break your heart. Was Carlotta just looking out for me when she told me to watch his temper? Did she know this would happen? _

Christine laughed miserably. Carlotta most likely would not have foreseen this. Christine didn't think _anyone_ would have seen it coming. She stopped laughing though, when an odd thought struck her.

_What if she did?_

Christine sat upright, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the carved letters on her father's tombstone. What was it that Erik had said?

_People have always wanted to use me for their own gain, but you... you see me differently. _

Christine stared about her, her eyes wide. Erik had said that he didn't _want_ her to leave. He had said that she had to leave him, so he could protect her, and slowly, the pieces came together. Carlotta was using Erik. What it was that she wanted, she couldn't understand, but it all became so clear in Christine's mind. Carlotta... she must have been blackmailing him. It all suddenly made sense, and Christine gave a surprised laugh, as she held a hand over her mouth. It would explain so much. Why their break-up had been so sudden, why Erik one moment had been the happiest of men, and then walked into his apartment as though it was a tomb. Carlotta must have had something on Erik, something she could use to manipulate him, something that was close to Erik's heart.

_No, what would she have to gain from dating Erik? Blackmail is one thing, but dating is something entirely different. It's not as though he'd lavish her with gifts, like he had with me. She's rich enough to look after herself... No, she must have been using their new relationship status to some end. With Erik's name associated with hers, it would make the world her oyster._

Christine gave a strangled cry. How had she not seen this? How had this not occurred to her? If it _was_ true, if Carlotta really _was_ manipulating Erik, which was becoming more likely the more she thought about it, then there must have been something that Christine could do. She couldn't stand by and let Erik suffer. She would fight for him, tooth and claw, and she would make Carlotta regret her actions. Christine searched her pocket, looking for her phone. She had to call Nadir, she had to let him know that she knew Carlotta was behind Erik's actions. She'd leave him a hundred texts, a thousand voice mails, if it meant getting Erik back in her arms. She grunted irritably as she remembered she had left her phone at home.

Christine half rose to get up, Erik's name lingering on her lips, but paused to plant a kiss on her father's gravestone. "Thank you, father."

Christine strode towards Mr. Hollis, who gave her a comforting smile as he opened the door for her. She nodded in return, and climbed in, clenching her hands into fists as she thought of Carlotta, and she gladly imagined the horrible things that she would do to the vile woman, if she ever got her hands on her. She had practically skipped up the steps to her front door, after darting out from the Rolls Royce, surprising Mr. Hollis into a stunned silence as he held the passenger door open. She opened the front door, ready to fly up the stairs and find her phone, but she paused in the doorway, her hand still on the doorknob as she stared at the one person she would never have expected to find standing in the hallway, in front of the stairs that led to her apartment.

"Miss Daae." Joseph Buquet greeted, nodding slightly, flashing her a toothy grin as he held up a digital recorder, his moustache stretched across his face like a slug. "I was hoping you would have a minute to talk to me."

"I... I..." Christine stammered, her mouth open as she took a step back, staring at the small silver recorder he held. "...I don't want to talk to you."

"I only have a few questions, my readers and I are fascinated by-"

"I _don't_ want to talk to you." Christine repeated, pursing her lips.

"There's no need to be so hasty, I'm sure we can come to a mutual agreement-"

"No. I'm not being hasty, I'm being serious. I'm not talking to you, and that's that. Nothing can change my mind. So go _away_." Christine insisted, watching as Joseph began to take a few steps closer to her.

"We can help each other, you know. You know some things about our dear associate. I know some things too. We can trade information, and..."

Joseph's eyes darkened as they lifted up to look at something behind Christine, and she felt as though someone had dropped an ice cube down her back as she turned around to find Mr. Hollis standing directly behind her. His eyes were firmly locked on Joseph Buquet's face, and he definitely did not look pleased.

"Is he bothering you, Miss Daae?" Mr Hollis asked, his London accent sounding very retrained.

"Um..." Christine murmured, and bashfully nodded as he looked down at her. "...Yeah."

His eyes narrowed, and he began to remove his jacket, sighing in frustration, as he did so, and Christine felt her face turn white as he spoke. "Didn't think I'd see you round here so soon. Guess you didn't think _I'd_ be here."

Christine looked at Joseph, whose eyes darted between her, Mr. Hollis and the open door behind them. She suddenly felt very afraid for Joseph, who was trying to stand at his full height to intimate Mr. Hollis, but it was useless, as Mr. Hollis was considerably taller than him, with large muscles, and an eerily pleased grin on his face.

"You're havin' a wind-up, mate." Hr. Hollis laughed, taking a step toward Joseph, who began to shrink in the man's shadow, and poked his large stomach. "Now, we can do it the easy way, or the _fun_ way."

Joseph gave a disgusted sneer, and started to slink towards the door like a snake, giving Christine a sly glance as he gave Mr. Hollis a wide berth. He left, but not before he placed a card in Christine's hands.

"_If_ you change your mind." He told her.

"On your bike." Mr. Hollis said, calling after him, before turning around to face Christine. "You gonna be alright?"

"Yes, thank you." Christine said nervously. "Were you... Really going to hurt him?"

Mr. Hollis shrugged. "If he didn't leave, yeah."

"Oh."

"You'd be better off throwing that card away. He's a pillock."

"Thank you, I will."

"Alright. I'll be outside if you need me."

Christine nodded meekly, and watched him put his jacket back on, giving her a nod as he went back outside to wait inside the car. Christine stared down at the card in her hands, and stuffed it into her pocket, deciding to wait until she was back in her apartment before throwing it into the bin. She opened her front door, tore off her jacket, and entered the living room. Paul meowed at her lazily from the couch, sitting at the other end, far away from Raoul, who watched with a curious stare as she flew past him, into the kitchen, where she picked up her phone and began searching through it for Nadir's number.

"Christine? You okay?" Raoul inquired, watching her as he walked in, pausing in the doorway.

"Yes, I just... I need to call Nadir." Christine told him, placing her phone to her ear. There was no need to tell Raoul about the incident downstairs, she wasn't sure how he'd react about the creepy Mr. Buquet, or the strange behavior of Mr. Hollis.

"You tried that, he's not picking up." He reminded her gently as he began to search through her cupboards, pulling out two mugs.

"I'm not giving up. Carlotta, she's using him. She _has_ to be." Christine replied as Raoul put the kettle on. "I've figured it out, Erik would never date that women, not if he had any choice."

"I dunno, Chris, it sounds like a bit of a long shot, but I do know that you're not going to get through to that guy." Raoul sighed, affectionately using his pet name for her as he referred to Nadir.

Christine sighed as well, hanging up her phone. "There's got to be another way of getting hold of him."

"Is it really so important to you? I think you're better off without that guy. It was never going to work-"

"What?" Christine looked up. "Of course it would have. What makes you say that?"

"Christine, this Erik, he's bad news. You've never even seen his face, and I've been looking online for anything I can dig up on him. There's _nothing_, Christine. This guy could be a real threat, and I don't want to see you get hurt again."

"Raoul, I've told you, he would never hurt me. This... What he's done, it wasn't his choice."

"How do you know that? How do you know that this isn't just wishful thinking?"

"Because if you knew Erik the way I knew him, then we wouldn't be having this discussion." Christine retorted.

Raoul gritted his teeth. "And you know him, do you? Then tell me, where was he born? What's his favourite food? When is his birthday? How _old_ is he?"

"Raoul, I know I've told you that he doesn't measure time the way we do, he's-"

"Don't give me that! You know that's bullshit. As if someone doesn't know how old he is." Raoul fumed.

"Raoul, _please_." Christine sighed, rubbing her face. "I agree, there are some things I can't wrap my head around when it comes to Erik, I might not know about his past, but it's his future that I'm concerned about."

"His future? With you, you mean." Raoul said, pulling a sour face.

"Yes Raoul, alright. You wanna know the truth? I love him. I want to spend every second with him. I want to hold his hand and kiss him and I want to share everything with him. I love him, Raoul. So yes, this is important to me. Why can't you see that?"

Raoul's eyes widened. "You... you don't mean that."

"I do." Christine said seriously. "I know, it might be hard for you to understand, but he brings so many wonderful feelings out of me. I would follow him anywhere, I would share each day with him if he let me. He knew how to touch me, how to console me, how to love me, but he'd never be able to show that love because of fear. Fear of being rejected. He loved me, Raoul. How could I ignore that love? That _devotion_-"

Raoul had been watching her so closely, so intensely, that it had made Christine stop talking. He had never looked at her that way before, as though he understood perfectly every word she said, as though he had spoken the words himelf. He looked so pale, and he was gripping the countertop so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and something dawned in his eyes. Christine felt so strange, looking at him. She almost couldn't recognize the person standing before her, and Christine wondered just what he was thinking, when Raoul took one long stride to stand before her, took her face between his hands, and placed his lips against her.

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me. I'm so sorry that you have to suffer these chapters, believe me, it's hard for me to even write! But your reviews inspire me to gon on, I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	67. Chapter 67

**_John Mayer's _****"Dreaming With A Broken Heart"**

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart_  
_The waking up is the hardest part_  
_You roll outta bed and down on your knees_  
_And for a moment you can hardly breathe_  
_Wondering, "Was she really here?_  
_Is she standing in my room?"_  
_No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone..._

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart_  
_The giving up is the hardest part_  
_She takes you in with her crying eyes_  
_Then all at once you have to say goodbye_  
_Wondering, "Could you stay my love?_  
_Will you wake up by my side?"_  
_No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone..._

_Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?_  
_Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?_  
_Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?_  
_Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my, roses in my hand?_  
_Would you get them if I did?_  
_No you won't, 'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone..._

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart_  
_The waking up is the hardest part_

* * *

Erik knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to meet with Carlotta, she had demanded to be included in every single aspect of the writing process, and he knew that he would have to listen to her sing to get an idea of the range she was capable of. There was no way that he would offer her singing lessons again, the breathing techniques he had offered before had insulted her and she was too vain and stupid to admit that she needed his help. Erik could no longer put off the upcoming catastrophe, but it would mean having to sit in his music room, listening to the woman 'sing', instead of his beautiful Christine. She did not deserve to be in his presence, she was a lowly little peasant compared to the queen that Christine was.

Erik had taken to carrying around his phone, and staring at the photo he had copied from Christine's phone, of the two of them together. He would, on occasion, look at the other photos he had found of Christine online, flicking through them as he tried to find any picture that would not bruise his heart. He had managed to find the photos of her that had been taken only minutes before they had met, at the music awards. Christine had been standing in front of a white wall, with the Chris Wright show logo printed across it, holding onto her purse as she smiled grimly. Erik didn't know why she looked so disgruntled, but a few minutes later, and she had been genuinely smiling up at him, after having tripped on her shoes to fall on top of him. She had blushed wildly, let him take her arm, she had done so many things that night that even now charmed and enchanted him. She had been so polite and thoughtful, so considerate of his feelings, that it made Erik want to weep again. He would never find another woman like her, there would be no-one else for him. She was his life, his love, the only thing in the world that he would die for, but the world would rather watch him live and suffer without her.

There were other photos for Erik to look at, enough to fill a scrapbook, and then of course there were her videos, but Erik had sworn himself away from them. They were killing him, each word that fell from her lips bringing him to tears. He couldn't even look to see if she had uploaded a new video. If he saw her face, there was predicting what he would do. If she was happy, then it would kill him. If she was unhappy, then... It would kill him also. He was doomed either way. There was no outcome that would ease Erik's poor, unfortunate soul. No matter how Christine felt, he would be unhappy without her beside him. And if she was to mention Raoul, if his face was to appear beside hers, if even for an instant, then Erik felt his whole world would collapse around him.

Erik could not open the door to his music room. He was afraid of what he would find, what voices would speak to him, but he had his _orders_. Carlotta wanted an album from him, or there would be hell to pay. He had to write an album, or Christine would get hurt. He could not let his selfish actions go on, he needed to take responsibility for his crimes. Erik could not remove Christine's heavenly face from his mind however, not matter _how_ he tried to distract himself. Erik had tried to compose something for Carlotta in his bedroom, but he could not find the words, the melody to write for the sick, deranged woman. He could not bring himself to write anything for her, her voice did not deserve his lyrics, they would be nothing compared to Christine. She would have been his angel, his reason for living, and he would have given Christine the world on a silver platter. Now, that platter belonged to Carlotta, and she would still ask for more. There would be no pleasing the foul woman, she was insane, she would never be pleased with what she had. Christine though, Christine would have thanked him, she would have praised him and she would have wanted to share it with him. Her voice... If Erik had only heard her voice, he could have written such beautiful symphonies, such haunting refrains, her voice could have lifted him to such dizzying heights, but now, he had fallen, and was left in hell once more. He was stuck in the shadows, wishing for the light of his life to return to his side.

Exhausted, Erik had fallen into a fitful slumber, clutching his pillow tight against him. He hoped for peace, for anything other that the torment that plagued him. He would gladly have suffered the tortures waiting for him there, in the deepest recesses of his mind, it was a better alternative to having to write such wicked songs for Carlotta. They would be untruthful, it would not be real music, it would be a mockery of his talents and his genius. He had dreamt of his mother, screaming at him as she threw her doll at his mask, the only time she had ever let go of it without him tearing it from her hands. He dreamt of the guards who held him down before the generals as they removed his mask, pushing down on his shoulders, digging their nails into his skin as they forced him to look at their mocking faces. He dreamt of Carlotta, her fingers curling under his mask as she tried to remove it, as she cooed pretty, false words to him before he had his hands around her neck. But then, Carlotta turned into Christine, and her hands were no longer around his mask. They were trying to pull Erik's hands from around her throat, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her voice echoed in his mind...

_It's you, Erik. You're who my voice was meant for._

Erik tried to pull his hands away, but they were glued to her perfect, lily white skin. She faded away, and Erik lashed out, trying to grasp the last little wisps of Christine's hair before she disappeared completely, until he was holding onto nothing but thin air. She swam into his vision once more, as she appeared on a stage in the same dress that she had worn when they had met. It was a beautiful gown, that glowed under the spotlights, and it was all he had always hoped for her. She was alone on the stage, but in the audience, there were thousands of white gloves, all clapping for her, but she ignored them all, turning away from them to look up to him, sitting in one of the private boxes. Her crystal blue eyes were locked onto his, her attention entirely on him. She looked so serene and sweet, smiling sadly as tears slipped over her cheeks. She raised her hands skywards, palms out, towards Erik, and he too tried to reach out for her, but he couldn't see his hands, they were lost in the darkness that surrounded him. She closed her eyes, tilting her head up, and she opened her mouth to sing.

_Dream of me._

Erik had awoken in a rage, his face contorted as he snarled, tears bursting from his eyes as he took the pillow he had been holding onto and tore it to pieces. Feathers flew everywhere as he grabbed fistfuls of the white downy stuffing. He stared about him, shamed by his outburst, crying as he held his hands out to collect the falling feathers that floated in the air. Why could he not just dream of Christine the way he remembered her? Why was his mind determined to break him before Carlotta could? In the botanical gardens, Christine had given him permission to dream of her, but his mind had twisted her words. It wanted to kill him, by torturing him with her image, her voice, by making him think he had _killed_ her.

Erik had somehow managed to write one song for Carlotta, before she turned up a few days later. It was the only thing he could come up with, he had lost the fire in his soul that had been the fuel for his music. Carlotta had stolen it from him the moment Christine had left him. How could she expect him to write without that flame, the dancing spirit in his heart that had been Christine. The song he had written was terrible, the angry red ink that was scrawled across the music sheets was smudged, so that he could barely read it himself. The chords were misaligned, the words felt stale and overused, and it wasn't particularly long, but Erik could not turn Carlotta away again for a second time, not at the risk of angering her, so he had allowed her up. He had opened his front door to let her in, after making sure his mask was secure, but she stood in the doorway, cringing as she held her manicured fingers over her nose. Erik took the sight of her in. She was wearing a deep red dress, her long, thick hair rolling about her shoulders, and a pair of large sunglasses covered her eyes.

"Ugh, Is that you or did I stand in something?" She said, waving her hand about, as though to clear the air. "It smells like something's died."

She insulted him further by proceeding to pull a deodorant bottle out of her purse and began to spray him with it for a good few seconds. Erik chose to say nothing, instead closing his eyes as he counted back from ten. The woman was _insufferable_. She stepped around him, entering his apartment as she put away the spray bottle. She turned to face him, and crossed her arms.

"And you look like shit. Is that the style now?" She paused, waiting for some kind of response from him as she pulled the sunglasses from her eyes to rest on top of her head. "Haven't you missed me?"

Erik could feel his mask digging into him as he tried to answer. "How can I miss you if you don't _go away_?"

"Well. Looks like you've been having fun without me." Carlotta said, ignoring his comment as she took in the sight of his ruined apartment. She saw the smashed bottle of morphine, and if she knew what it was, it did not show on her face. She glanced lazily at the pond, and gave a disgusted sigh, before looking at him. "I hope you haven't forgotten what you owe me."

"How could I?" Erik asked sadly as he started to walk over to his music room. "I have a song for you-"

"_A_ song?"

"Yes, it's called-"

"You only have _one_ song for me?" Carlotta asked, outraged. "An _album_, Erik, I want an _album_. I want more than _one_ song, you insufferable _prat_. How many times do I have to drum it into your head that you do not get to pick and choose the conditions of your punishment? If you disobey me again-"

"You want an award winning album, do you not? You want amazing reviews and undeserved credit. You want to be queen bee, but I cannot give it to you if you do not let me write my music in my own way. You want it to be absolutely perfect, don't you? Then stop pestering me, woman, and let me write." Erik argued, turning around to glare at her.

Carlotta put her hands on her hips, and curled her lip. "You have plenty of excuses, don't you? I wonder what excuses you'd use on Christine if I released my little home video?"

Erik blanched, watching as Carlotta smirked, and walked around him to enter his music room.

"Come on then, _darling_, let's hear this song." She said, her high heels clicking along the wooden floor as she went to stand before his piano.

Erik's hands turned into fists at the mention of her pet name for him, and followed her in. He grabbed the few music sheets he had prepared for her, and thrust them at her. "There, _that_ should make you happy."

Carlotta smiled darkly at him as she lifted the papers to her face, but began to shriek as her eyes wandered over the page.

"What the hell is this?! I can't read a single word!" She screeched, and Erik refrained from holding his hands over his ears. "This is... _look_ at it! You expect me to be able to read this?!"

"I expect you to be grateful!" Erik hissed. "You try my patience."

"And you try mine. I've been willing to let this slide, but not any longer." Carlotta sneered, pulling out her phone as she began to tap angrily into it. "If you think there won't be consequences, then you've got another thing coming-"

"_No_!" Erik took a step towards her, his hands almost reaching out for her phone, but he managed to hold himself back. "I'll... I'll be good."

Carlotta laughed, putting her phone away. "_Good boy_."

Erik turned away. Her voice... It had sounded like his mother's for a moment, it had been eery. It was the same insulting tone of voice his mother had used on him. Erik lost himself for a moment in his memories, the sight of his mother a restful nuisance compared to Carlotta, but she drew him out of her thoughts by snapping her fingers repeatedly in front of his mask.

"Hello? Dummy? I asked you a question."

Erik's head snapped up at look at her. "I didn't hear you."

Carlotta rolled her eyes. "You're pathetic. I would pity you if you were human."

"I am more human than _you_, Carlotta."

"You could have fooled me. Humans usually have a sense of morals." Carlotta idly stared at the music sheets before stuffing them into her purse.

"Carlotta, I _need_ those sheets." Erik told her, holding his gloved hand out. "They're my notes, and I'll need them for when we practice-"

"Practice? You think I need to practice?" Carlotta asked in disbelief. "What I need is a monkey, I'm sure they can write better than you do. Did you get a child to write this out for you?"

"_No_, Carlotta. But most singers do actually learn their songs, and you'll need me to 'translate' if you're going to be performing my music."

"You want me to stay here, and sing for you?"

"Carlotta, you said you wanted to be involved in everything, that you didn't want to get left out-"

"Yeah, but not if it means spending any more time around you than I have to. I can learn this just as easily without you. You're here to write the music, nothing else. That's all you're good for."

"Not to Christine..." He whispered gloomily.

Something flashed in Carlotta's eyes. "What do you think she saw you as, Erik? Do you think that she honestly wasn't using you? I bet you she was just waiting for the right opportunity. She's probably fuming that I got to you before her-"

"Silence-"

"-So much for attracting more flies with honey than with vinegar.

"I said _silence_! She is far more a woman than _you_ are, Carlotta. She was the embodiment of everything good and holy and for one glorious moment, she chose to look upon me and lavish me with her attention. Her smiles were worth more than to me than rubies, every gentle sigh and every tender touch meant just for me. She was the sunrise to my sunset, every day I would have worshipped her. You could never live up to her image, you could never _hope_ to be one tenth of the saint that she was. No one will ever feel the love that I feel for that woman. You think I enjoy writing these songs for you? You think that I can, now that you've done this to me? To _her_? How much agony must you put us both in before you are satisfied? I am in hell and you have put me there, Madam! How can I ever hope to write another song again now that my every waking thought revolves around her?"

Carlotta had been smiling firmly the entire time, her painted lips twisting about as she stared at him disapprovingly. "You find a way. Or I find a way to make Christine suffer."

She left, pulling the sunglasses from her head to put them on as she waltzed past him, carrying her purse in the crook of her elbow. Erik followed her, slowly, and watched as she paused before the front door, her hand on the doorknob.

"This will be easier for you if you just let it happen." She said seriously. She turned her head, her back to him, as she stared at him over her shoulder, from the corner of her eye. "Then you can die."

Carlotta slammed the door behind her, and Erik glared after her, carefully removing his gloves. He wished for death now, instead of later. Death would make such an agreeable end for him. The emptiness that awaited him, the never ending darkness, it was a deserving finale for a monster such as him. There would be no heaven waiting for him, no Christine to welcome him with wide arms. If he could not ask for forgiveness himself, then how could he ask it of Christine?

His beautiful, beautiful Christine. He only wanted to give her his dreams.

Erik entered his kitchen to grab some whiskey, before disappearing off into his bedroom. He wanted to fade away, like Christine had in his dream. Despite the pain, if he could ignore the rest of his nightmares, then he would dream of Christine and be thankful. It was the only chance he had of watching his angel sing on the stage, like she was always meant to...

But there was a knock at his front door.

Erik paused in his step, having left the kitchen to now stand in his living room, whiskey bottle in hand, and stared at the door. It must have been Carlotta, back to insult him further. He would allow it, but a single word against Christine and he would cut her pretty little neck and to hell with the consequences! He pulled the door open, hiding his hands behind his back as he did so, and stared in shock at the short, Iranian man standing before him. Nadir looked out of breath, and Erik could hardly believe his eyes. It was an insult to his power and sway over the man that he stood before him now.

"Erik! Thank God, you must listen to me-" Nadir began.

"N-Nadir?"

"Yes, listen-"

"How did you get up here?"

"I snuck into the elevator after Carlotta left. Why she thought wearing sunglasses in an underground garage made sense continues to puzzle me, but Erik-"

"I told you to stay away Nadir. I _told_ you." Erik warned, pulling his hands from behind his back.

"Erik, read your messages! Please, before you do anything you regret! You must listen to me! I can help you!" Nadir cried, taking a step back before Erik's hands could come any closer to his neck.

"You think you have the right to talk to me as thus? You insignificant little mouse!-"

"-She loves you! Christine _loves_ you, Erik!"

Erik stopped in his tracks, his hand still hovering in the air between them. His eyes twitched, and he calmly stated, "I believe you are _mistaken_."

"No, I am _not_! I swear my life upon this, Erik. She told me, before she left, before you made her leave."

"No... No, you lie, you lie _still_, Daroga!" Erik seethed, turning away from Nadir.

_Christine could never... She couldn't..._

"Erik, just stop and listen to me! It's not too late for either of you. She loves you, and I guarantee you that she's waiting for you. You have to listen to me."

"Stop it, _please_, I beg you. No more lies." Erik cried angrily, clenching his hands into fists. "Why must you torment Erik with this? Is this one last laugh for you? You find Erik's pain _amusing_?"

"I am not lying! She was going to tell you herself, she was going to tell you once you got home. She was trying to find the right time, she wanted to be sure that you wouldn't reject her, she wanted it all to be perfect. But you saw Carlotta, and everything changed."

Nadir took a great risk, and stepped into his apartment. "Christine loves you. I should have told you sooner, I should have done something, but it wasn't my place to tell you. I should have made sure that every scrap of evidence of the awful place was destroyed, and believe me Erik, I thought I had gotten rid of everything! I swear upon Amira, that if I could have prevented this tragedy, then I would have."

"C-Christine..." Erik murmured, his fists loosening as he stared about, his lips trembling as he spoke. "S-she loves... She _loves_ me?"

"Yes." Nadir sighed, relieved.

"No, she _can't_! How can she? Why... _Why_ does she love me?" Erik cried, turning around to face Nadir.

"I do not know, but she does."

"I... I must see her." Erik sobbed, burying his mask in his hands. "I must tell her...She has to know that I..."

"She knows." Nadir said.

"Oh, Christine_, mad_ Christine... Forgive me, my darling."

"Erik, you must go to her. But we need to get the evidence Carlotta has on you first, and we need to do it quickly!"

"How? I cannot kill her, there's another person who has the video! Carlotta, she said that if anything happened to her-"

"Then someone else would release the video? I know. But Erik, I have found a way to help you! I have found that person!"

* * *

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews you have been posting, they're all amazing, and so special to me. I'm so sorry that you have to suffer these chapters, believe me, it's hard for me to even write! But your reviews inspire me to go on, I love reading each and every ****one. ****Thank you to those who had been reviewing every day! You guys make me so happy! Thank you everyone!**

**Please do leave a review when you can, it only takes a few seconds, and every word means so much to me! They keep me going, and they let me know what you think of each chapter. I need to know if there's something you're unhappy about, or want more focus on, so please, don't be shy!**


	68. Chapter 68

**_Alex Clare's _****"Too Close"**

_You know I'm not one to break promises_  
_I don't want to hurt you but I need to breathe_  
_At the end of it all, you're still my best friend_  
_But there's something inside that I need to release_  
_Which way is right, which way is wrong_  
_How do I say that I need to move on_  
_You know we're headed separate ways_

_And it feels like I am just too close to love you_  
_There's nothing I can really say_  
_I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more_  
_Got to be true to myself_  
_And it feels like I am just too close to love you_  
_So I'll be on my way_

_You"ve given me more than I can return_  
_Yet there's so much that you deserve_  
_Nothing to say, nothing to do,_  
_I've nothing to give_  
_I must leave without you_  
_You know we're headed separate ways_

_And it feels like I am just too close to love you_  
_There's nothing I can really say_  
_I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more_  
_Got to be true to myself_  
_And it feels like I am just too close to love you_  
_So I'll be on my way_

_So I'll be on my way_

* * *

From the moment Raoul's lips hit hers, Christine's mind had been a blank slate. She was completely frozen beneath Raoul's smooth hands, and her heart had stopped beating in her chest, fluttering only when she thought of the way Erik's hands had felt against her skin. She couldn't move, couldn't think, and the only thing that managed to shake her out of her shock that been the image of Erik's mask in her mind. She pulled herself away, gasping as she pressed her hands to her face and found tears falling from her eyes. Raoul watched her, his eyes wide as he pulled his hands away from her face.

"Christine?" Raoul asked. "I'm... I'm sorry, I don't know... I..."

Christine closed her eyes, and hung her head. "You've... You've never kissed like that before."

"No, but I have always wanted to." Raoul admitted. "I should have before."

Christine lifted her head. "Why, Raoul? Why would you choose to kiss me now? After everything, what did you hope to achieve?"

"Christine, I love you. I have loved you since we were kids."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I love you." Raoul whispered, dropping his eyes. "I always have."

"But... When we dated, and then...?" Christine asked, her voice cracking as she stared at him. Did Raoul understand her confusion? They had dated before, and Christine had always thought that there had been no spark between them. It was the reason why they had decided to split, wasn't it? What was it that Raoul thought would happen now?

"I was... I was thinking of _you_. I was so happy when I was with you, but you weren't. Nothing changed for you. You weren't in the same place as me, and I let you go because I believed in us, Christine. I believed that we were always meant to be together, there was no doubt in my mind. I wasn't worried about us, I was happy to let you live your life how you wanted, and one day, I hoped that you would love me the way I love you."

"But... But we _both_ decided that it wasn't working out when we broke up."

Raoul shrugged, his face stricken as he turned his face away from her. "You decided. I accepted."

Christine stared up at him, horrified. "And now? What did you think would happen when you kissed me?"

Raoul cringed, closing his eyes. "I hadn't really _planned_ on kissing you, Christine. It's just... For years, I've been hiding my feelings from you. I never wanted you to feel as though you were pressured. And then you... Then _Erik_ comes along and you're all gooey eyed for _him_. Five days, and you're ready to ride off into the sunset with him. I couldn't let you say another word, not without... Christine, you _had_ to know how I feel. I would regret it for the rest of my life if I did not say anything."

"And you think that telling me this now helps your case?" Christine asked, staring at him incredulously. "Raoul, you're my best friend, and I _do_ love you, but it's brotherly love! I love _Erik_!"

"I'm sorry, I just... those words you spoke, they're how I feel about _you_."

Christine stared at Raoul, at the way he hung his head where peering at her shyly through his long lashes. Christine had always been drawn to his eyes, they were usually so expressive, but now the only expression she could read was shy admiration. It was a look she had never seen on him before, and it was completely bare and unashamed. Christine realised he was no longer going to hide his feelings in front of her.

"Oh, Raoul, I'm sorry." Christine sighed, sniffing as she began to dry her face with her sleeve. "I can't... I just can't return those feelings. I don't feel that way for you."

"You might not feel that way forever, Christine." Raoul sighed. "But I will never force you to do anything you don't want."

"Raoul, I can't make you wait for me. It would be cruel, to both of us." Christine cried. "I love Erik, and I always will. My heart and soul belong to him."

"And the rest of you? Who does that belong to?"

"To me, Raoul." Christine answered,

"Is there nothing for me to hold onto?"

"Our friendship." Christine said, standing up from her seat. She stood before Raoul, and placed a warm hand on his leather clad shoulder. "You'll always have that."

Raoul stared at her wistfully, nodding slowly. "Will I? Now that you know how I feel for you, can you honestly say that our friendship won't change?"

Christine sighed, closing her eyes and she hung her head. "I don't know. I mean, it's all just such a surprize, I need time to process this." She laughed, though it was empty and hollow, and glanced up at Raoul. "All this time, and you never told anyone?"

Raoul's eyes darted away from her, and Christine tilted her head to see his face better. "Who else knows?"

It was a moment before Raoul could stand to look at her again. "Your father knew."

Christine felt her entire body snap to attention as she stared at Raoul in astonishment. "W-what?"

"He knew, but I never told him. He figured it out for himself. I think everyone but you could see how mad I was for you."

"H-He knew? Why... He never said a word!" Christine insisted, taking a step back.

"Well, that's not quite true. He tried dropping hints, much to my embarrassment, but you never realized." Raoul said, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"What does that mean?"

"Christine, you father used to say that when you were older, you wouldn't sing for him anymore. Do you remember who he said you would sing for?"

Christine felt her skin turn white. Christine knew who Raoul was on about, she remembered thinking about it in Erik's music room, before he had played for her. Her father had told her when she was six that she would meet someone, someone who would make her want to sing only for them.

"You don't think... Raoul... Raoul we were so young when he told me that story. Are you telling me that you've loved me-"

"Since we were kids. I told you. The first time we met, I couldn't take my eyes off of you. You remember it, don't you?"

"Yes, I do." Christine spoke sadly.

It had been while her father had been walking her along the River Thames, that she had met Raoul. Her father had finished for the day, there were no more weddings for at least a week, and they had nothing but free time until then. Her father played the violin in the music band he had been hired by, and he had loved his job. His working hours were not long, so he had enjoyed spending every free second with her, but the pay had been terrible, and often, her father would bring his violin out with him when they went on their long walks. If the weather was good, then he would pull out the stringed instrument, leaving the open violin case in front of him to attract people's attention. He would toss a few coins in himself before starting to play, giving a cheeky wink to her, which always made her smile. Christine would kneel at his feet, transfixed by the way he played his melodies. His hands always danced around the strings, his eyes closed in silent prayer as Christine listened, and watched as the odd person stopped to listen.

On that day, Christine had convinced her father to let her sing, and he was inclined to let her. It had been during the middle of winter, and London was a frozen tundra without the joy of snow, and no-one had stopped to listen to her father, let alone drop a few coins into it. He never normally would have allowed her to sing in public, he did not want her to get used to the idea of performing on the streets. He wanted the best for her, but he was desperate for money so they could pay their rent and other bills. He gave in, removing his red scarf that had been tightly wound around his neck, and began to wrap it around hers, fluffing it out so that it did not restrain her throat, and told her that it was very important that she kept her throat warm. She warmed up, after a few scales, and began to sing a Swedish song her father had taught her. Though she could no longer remember the name, Christine could still hear the tune she had carried inside her head, even now.

She had sung her heart out, closing her eyes as people around her began to stop, despite the cold wind. Her father played on, closing his eyes in bliss as she sang for him. Christine had felt something tugging at her neck, and she had opened her eyes to see that her scarf had been caught in the wind, and was threatening to blow away. She had stopped singing, remembering her father's words on how important the scarf was, and tried to wrap it herself around her neck, but her clumsy little hands had ended up unwinding it further, until it slipped out between her fingers, and the wind carried it away from her, over the silver railings that separated them from the river, and Christine had watched it all happen in horror, as the scarf disappeared from sight, sinking down past the railings.

Then, something small and blurry had rushed past her, and catapulted itself into the air, vaulting over the railings effortlessly. Christine had stared up at her father, alarmed as some woman appeared from nowhere, screaming a name that at first Christine had thought odd, but her father had already put away his violin into his case, and followed after the boy that had turned out to be Raoul. When the ambulances had arrived, and they had pulled her father and the strange young boy out of the river, Christine had been in tears, crying for her father, until they had allowed her to see him. She had been so scared, standing all alone, surrounded by strangers as she held onto her father's violin case, and she had refused to stop crying until she was safely back in her father's arms. The paramedic had lifted her up into the back of the ambulance, and she had clung to her father's soaking coat as the other paramedic began to check his vitals. She had stared at the boy lying before her. He had been very brave, she had thought then, as he lifted one trembling hand to pass her her scarf, now soggy and dripping, before closing his eyes. She had held his hand all the way to the hospital, smiling all the way, ignoring Raoul's childminder as her father watched the two of them.

"Your father knew before I did." Raoul said, interrupting Christine's thought. "Secretly, I think he would have wanted us to end up together-"

"Stop." Christine muttered. "Don't you dare try and use my father against me. He would have wanted me to be _happy_."

"And you don't think you could be happy with me? Do you think that Erik deserves your love just because he 'needs' it the most? You have a say in your happiness, Christine, and I could make you happy."

"No, you couldn't." Christine remarked. "Not in the way that he makes me happy."

Raoul sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Then... Then... There's nothing more that I can say. I've said my peace, Christine. I just hope that... that you don't think any less of me."

Raoul lifted himself from the counter, stepping around Paul as he sauntered into the kitchen, and Christine followed him, watching as he began to gather his things.

"Raoul... Please, what are you doing?" Christine asked fretfully, as Raoul swung his backpack over his leather jacket and began to head for the front door. "Please don't leave. _Please_, I _need_ you. You're my best friend in the whole world. _Please don't leave me alone_."

Raoul looked up, his face looked more worn and pale than she had remembered it to be, and told her, "I have to. We both need some time to adjust. It's been a tough day for both of us. When... I... I'll see you soon, I swear. Everyone misses you, and we want you back."

"You mean Eddie's?"

"And your followers. We've all missed you." Raoul said, looking away from her as he hitched his bag further up onto his shoulder. "Come back to us soon, Christine."

Raoul shut the door behind him, and Christine clasped a hand over her heart as she sunk to the floor, hiding her head between her knees. How had she managed to lose the only friend she would ever have? It had not been her fault, she insisted. She would not fake her feelings to make him happy, she swore, but then why was she so miserable without him? It felt as though something had been torn from her, as though someone had stolen a part of her life. She held her head down as she dug her nails into the back of her hair, crying miserably to herself as Paul came and rubbed his head against her thigh. It was useless, not even Paul's persistent attention seeking could not cheer her up.

Raoul had been so honest with her, so forthright, and Christine had felt that she too had been honest with him. She _was_ in love with Erik, and while she did love Raoul, it was not the love he wanted. She was sorry that she could not give it to him, but it was _her_ heart, and only _she_ could give it away. She could not believe that her father had led Raoul on, it was wrong of him to presume that he knew her heart better than she knew it herself. He had been right, only in that one day, it would no longer belong to him, but he had no right to make Raoul think there could have been a future for them, when the thought had never entered Christine's mind.

Christine sat upright shakily. She felt as though he whole world had collapsed around her, but she needed to push on. She needed to speak with Nadir, she needed to hear Erik's voice, and the only way she could do that was to get up off the floor and do something about it.

Christine grabbed her phone from the kitchen table, and tried Nadir's number again. His phone must have been switched off, she realized, and frantically, Chrisitne began to think of any other way that she could have gotten a hold of him. It hit her though, when she had been staring at her still unopened suitcases. The Winchester was Erik's hotel, and Ms. Giry had would have a direct line to Nadir, possibly even Erik. Christine began searching for the number for the hotel, and dialled it, her heart beating so fast as she began to wipe away her tears. Raoul would always have a special place in her heart, and she wasn't going to let it fade from her so easily, but the thought of Erik, alone and in misery tormented her and refused to give her any peace. After listening to the phone ring a couple of times, someone picked up.

"The Winchester, this is Meg, how can I help you?"

"Meg!" Christine called, closing her eyes in relief at the sound of the girl's voice. "Thank God!"

Christine heard Meg take a deep breath, and continued on, "Meg, you have to get a hold of Nadir, right now! I-"

Christine paused. There were two voices in the background. Christine could hear someone's voice in the background that made her very relieved, but the other voice managed to make Christine shiver when she realized who it was. It was Carlotta, and she was speaking with Nadir!

"Meg... Is that?" Christine asked, confused. What was Nadir doing speaking to Carlotta? She couldn't hear their voices clearly, but from the sounds of it, Nadir was displeased, and Carlotta was boasting about something.

Meg still didn't say anything, making confused, agitated noises, and Christine wondered what just was happening to make the girl so fitful.

"Meg, I need to speak to Nadir this instant, don't let him go anywhere!"

"I can't! Mr Kahn is following Carlotta!" Meg cried, as the voices began to fade. "Oh Christine, I'm so sorry!-"

"Meg, it's alright, get me your mother."

"No, Christine, not about that, about everything-"

"Meg, it's not your fault, it's Carlotta's! I know what she's doing to Erik, but the only way I can stop her is if you get me someone who can get a hold of Erik!" Christine requested, hoping to ease Meg's uneasy tone as she darted around her apartment. "Does your mother have Erik's phone number? Can she call him?"

"Christine, I-"

"Listen, tell your mother I called, alright? I'm gonna fix this, I'm going to get Erik back, I will!" Christine cried frantically.

"Christine, are you alright-"

"I'm sorry, Meg. I have to go, I'll see you soon!" Christine called, before hanging up her phone. She didn't have the time to waste. Christine had to do everything in her power to make sure that Erik would never be alone again, and that he was safe from Carlotta, and standing about in her apartment talking to Meg would not accomplish that.

It was time to go back to New York.

* * *

**I am reading your reviews, I'm sorry that I can't reply to them all. BloodyRubies, I have read your reviews, they were fun and insightful and I love that you took the time to write it all out. Thank you so much. I will reply to them as soon as I can, but I'm finding it very difficult when my time is so restricted. Nonetheless, I hope to see many more from you. They make me so happy. I hope to see more from all of you, because I really love reading them. So thank you, to everyone who reviews everyday. And if you don't review, then that's okay too. It's enough to know that they are people reading it. This story means so much to me, it's all I can ever think about it consumes me night and day, so to know that this story means so much to someone else, makes me very happy.**

**I am debating though, whether or not to spread out the chapters a bit, in terms of daily uploads. I might spread it out to one every two days. Let me know what you think, and I'll base my decision on your opinions!**


	69. Chapter 69

**_The Hush Sound's _****"Pretty Down to Your Bones"**

_You are pretty down to your bones_  
_You are ivory and wire and pearls_  
_I will kiss and kiss and kiss your skin_  
_Beg for you to let me in_  
_But oh, sometimes it hurts_  
_You pluck my nerves_

_I never wanted anyone else_  
_Don't want anyone else but you_  
_You are the neck_  
_Of the bottle I'm living in_  
_I never wanted anyone else_  
_Don't want anyone else but you_  
_I do adore_  
_The hand that I've been dealt_  
_Been dealt_

_I whimper, laugh, and cry_  
_There is a murmur of your love inside_  
_When you dress me in the dream you made_  
_I'll be your bargain, be your favorite_  
_But oh, sometimes it hurts_  
_You pluck my nerves_

_I never wanted anyone else_  
_Don't want anyone else but you_  
_You are the neck_  
_Of the bottle I'm living in_  
_I never wanted anyone else_  
_Don't want anyone else but you_  
_I do adore_

* * *

Erik had begged Nadir for a moment alone, so he could compose himself and collect his thoughts, but Nadir had insisted on staying by his side. To the very end, he swore, clapping a stiff hand on Erik's shoulder. Nadir was... Nadir was a good friend to Erik. Erik would never be able to fully show his appreciation, he would never be able to thank him for the gift of Christine. How Nadir had summoned the courage to face Erik, after he had been so abhorrent, so malicious to the one man Erik could comfortably call his friend? Nadir was a very good friend indeed, if his words were true. Nadir had spoken of a plan, as he had found out the identity of Carlotta's accomplice, but Nadir seemed hesitant to release that information. It infuriated Erik that his friend would not tell him, but it did not matter. Erik would find out sooner or later, and that person would see the fiery flames of hell along with Carlotta, if Nadir's plan was to work. Nadir had promised Erik that his plan _would_ work, but Erik was impatient. He wanted his trial to be over, so he could see his _beloved_ Christine. Erik had gone to hide in his bedroom, with Nadir waiting for him in his living room as he tore his gloves off, as well as splitting his mask, tossing the two halves onto the bed, so he could allow his ugly, misshaped skin to breathe. He ran a hand over his face, struggling to breathe himself as his face caught on his peeling skin. His chest was heaving as he desperately clutched at it, gulping down hot, stuffy air. His heart was racing, his entire body trembling, and he was sweating so terribly that his clothes were becoming soaked. Erik sank to his knees, clasping his hands together.

Christine _loved_ him. The words were too good to be true, how could his angel, his true love, dare to even feel anything other than pity and fear for him? Nadir must have been wrong, he had to be. _Christine _was wrong. She _couldn't_ have loved him. She was confused and alone and in pain and Erik couldn't take advantage of her vulnerable state.

_This isn't happening. This can't be true. How could... How could she? How does Erik make Christine happy?_

Erik cast his eyes upwards. _You did this. I asked... I asked you to make her love me. I swore I would never do a bad thing again... If you made her love me._

Erik closed his eyes. God had answered his prayers, but now that it was becoming a reality, Erik was suddenly very frightened. Had God twisted Christine's thoughts and feelings, just to tame Erik, or were Christine's feelings her own? Erik was concerned that Christine, with her gentle soul and her trusting nature, did not understand her love. She was so accepting of everyone, so ready to love, it was a miracle that she had even managed to linger around him as long as she had, so her love... Would it not be the love of a dear friend? It would not be the love that he wished for. It would not be the love shared between man and woman.

_Not that you could give her that love. She could never... I could never give her... _

Erik groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he held his hands over his ears. Erik could never give her a real relationship. Would Christine be happy with just holding hands and letting him adore her? He would give her everything, all the diamonds in the world, every song that screamed from his heart. He would give his very life just to make her happy, but if she would never be happy with _him_. Not when there were others who could please her so much better than he could. They could walk with her through crowds, they would share meals and they would be able to touch her in a way that Erik never could. Erik could not do any of those things. Christine would be bored with him, Erik realized, panicking. She would want more, and he could not give it to her! If she asked him... then how could he find the words to express to her that his mask meant... But Erik had to restrain himself. She would _never_ ask. She would never want the same things as him.

"Erik! We have to leave now! We need to go!"

If Nadir's plan to remove Carlotta's offending and unfortunate presence worked, then there was nothing to keep him from Christine's side. Would she want him there? Did she truly love him? Did she love him... still? But to be back at Christine's side... To hear her voice, to feel her hand against his. Even if she did not love him, Erik would be grateful for any small affections that came his way. Erik only hoped that Christine would not send him away. He would beg at her feet, grovel for any passing attention that came from her, he would devote his life to her, if only she would let him stay by her side. Erik could conquer the world with one hand, if Christine held the other.

"Erik! C'mon, already!"

Erik looked up morosely, distracted from his thoughts. If Nadir's words were true, then... Then Christine... Then he... He had sent her away. Erik had foolishly torn her from his side, and there was no chance of forgiveness. She would be angry with him. She would want to punish him and Erik would allow it. Erik wondered whether her nails would be as sharp as his mothers had been.

"Erik? Erik, are you alright?"

"Nadir..." Erik mumbled, staring down at his hands. "Christine..."

Erik listened as Nadir pressed himself to his bedroom door. "Christine is waiting for you. Do you want to _keep_ her waiting?"

"You are certain that she... That _Christine_ loves me?" Erik asked pitifully, flexing his fingers as he stared around himself, his mouth turning dry, no matter how many times he licked them.

"You can hear it from her yourself when you go get her, but you can't until we get that evidence!"

Erik looked up at the door, his eyes watering. To hear from Nadir those words, of Christine's misguided affections, had filled Erik with such determined hope. If he were to hear it from her, if those words were to fall from her perfect lips, then Erik would no longer be able to control himself and she would be his forever. Erik would have his Christine, he would have the one thing he desired above all else. A beautiful, loving woman to sit beside him for the rest of his days. Erik would never be able to let her go, not even if she changed her mind, and it terrified him to think that she might.

Erik stood up, sealing his mask before opening his bedroom door. Nadir had stepped away in time, and watched as Erik put his gloves on.

"Erik, I know this must be hard for you, but you have to focus-"

"I know what am I doing, Nadir, I have been dreaming of this since that _wench_ began this calamity. Well I shall be the one to end it, and it is thanks to you, my friend." Erik said, warmly, smiling. It did not matter that Nadir could not see his smile, it was implied in the tone of his voice.

"It is nothing, my friend." Nadir said, smiling as he mirrored Erik's own words, and bowed slightly, placing a hand over his heart.

"It is not _nothing_, Nadir! You have helped me in so many ways, I shall _never_ be able to thank you for them all. Name anything, Nadir, and it shall be yours."

Nadir smirked, straightening his back as they grabbed their coats, following Erik out into the corridor. "There is nothing I want more than to see you happy, Erik. But a tropical island wouldn't be a bad start."

Erik laughed merrily, overjoyed. "Why start with an island? I'm sure I could give you a country if you were a patient man."

Nadir grinned widely as they strode down the corridor. "You don't think I'm patient?"

"Not at patient as I have been. I have been waiting for Christine all of my life. All of my life, I have dreamed of her, Nadir. I had dreamed of a woman who would not run from me, who would smile at me and tell me sweet words, and she is alive!"

Erik stopped in his tracks, pressing his fingertips to the mask's lips. Nadir stopped also, turning around to look at him.

"Erik, what is it?"

Erik nervously looked up at Nadir. "What if... What if she does not want me? What if she is happier... without Erik?"

Nadir laughed out of relief. "I do not think that is possible..."

"But Nadir, it has been some time since she has seen me-"

"It's barely been two weeks, you think that she's forgotten her time with you?"

"No, I think that she has remembered her time _without_ me. She... She has a life that I cannot control. I cannot make her leave her life just because I wish it. She would hate me."

"Erik, she would not hate you-"

"She _would_! If she does not now then she soon _would_, Nadir!" Erik cried, slipping his hand beneath her jacket to place it over his heart. He held his hand down firmly, hoping to still the fire that resided there. "I cannot make her happy... I _can't_!"

"Yes you can!" Nadir insisted, grabbing Erik's arm to pull him along. "And what makes you think she hates you? Haven't I just told you that she loves you? Do I have to say it again?"

"Nadir, the way I treated her, the way I spoke to her! It was shameful, I... I... How can I look upon her face without seeing those tears... Those damn tears that were because of me?! She was still trying to fight it when I put her to sleep. I gave her everything she needed, a plane, a driver, I even paid off her landlord so she would never have to pay rent, but what must she _think_ of me for doing those things? I have insulted her, Nadir, and if I go to her, if I beg for forgiveness and she does not give it-"

Nadir stopped, calling the elevator as he turned to stare at Erik dead in the mask's eyes, still clasping on his sleeve. "Christine will forgive you. She'll understand. But you have to be honest with her, and tell her why you did those things."

"No, I refuse to," Erik stated, looking away shamefully. "If she hears Carlotta had a hand-"

"I meant, you should tell Christine about the video." Nadir said, lowering his eyes. "Not what is on it, but... why you are in it."

Erik stared at Nadir, horrified beyond belief as he yanked his arm away. "You can't mean... You want me to tell Christine... No... No, I _won't_! I won't and you can't make me!"

"Erik, calm yourself." Nadir soothed. "Christine _needs_ to hear it from you. You need to explain to her why no-one should see that video. You need to lay it all out for her, so she understands completely. It's the only way you can move on with your new life with her."

"But Nadir," Erik moaned softly. "She'll _never_ understand. How could Christine _ever_ understand the horrors of this world? How can she understand death when she is so full of life?"

Nadir smiled weakly. "She understood _you_."

"No, Nadir. She does not understand me. She understands a small part of me, the part that I allowed her to see, the part of me that loves her deeply. How can she accept everything else?"

"The same way she accepted your invitation to our table, with an open mind."

Erik sighed. "She did not accept it. Or have you forgotten that I had her brought over?"

Nadir's eyes lit up comically. "She knew, actually."

Erik looked up, puzzled. "Knew what?"

"She knew that you wanted her to sit with us. The waiter told her when he asked her to move." Nadir laughed, stepping into the open elevator.

"She... She knew? When did you find that out?" Erik asked, stepping in as well. He tried to ignore the fact that his demands had been ignored by a mere waiter, and listened to Nadir. Christine had known? She had not said a word, not even when Nadir had let it slip, and Erik wondered what had gone through her head when she had been told the reason for the change to her seating arrangement.

"Christine told me. It was when you stormed off. Christine and I talked." Nadir confessed, shrugging lightly, though there was still a grin on his face. "About you."

"About me? What did you tell her?"

Nadir glanced up as the elevator doors began to close. "What she needed to hear."

They arrived at the Winchester, though it wasn't soon enough in Erik's opinion, and after managing to sneak Erik through the lobby without drawing too much attention, they were soon all huddled inside Antoinette's office, the three of them all towering over the small, frightened child that was Antoinette's daughter. The girl had every right to be frightened, from what Erik had learned on the ride over. Nadir, sitting at the other end of the limousine, had reluctantly told Erik, after many threats and persistent questioning, that the girl had been on the reception desk on the night of the music awards. Carlotta had entered the lobby, approached the foolish girl and had seduced her with the intention of blackmailing her with photos of their night together. Erik had refused to hear anymore, but Nadir had let slip that Carlotta had been using Meg to watch Christine, until it had been too late and the girl was forced to follow Carlotta's every whim. The question that had stuck out in Erik mind though, was how Carlotta had known which hotel Christine had been staying at, or how she had sprung into action so suddenly.

"_You_?! _You_ did this?!" Erik roared, ready to throttle the child's neck as she sat before him.

The girl was cowering away from him, her eyes wide as she sat in her seat, gripping the armrests tightly. "I didn't mean to! I had no idea what Carlotta was up to until it was too late!"

"Erik, you have to understand that it was a mistake anyone could make." Antoinette told him.

"Yes, and _she_ made it! Your daughter, Antoinette has put me in more misery than I have ever had to suffer in my entire life! You think I will let this slide?!"

"Erik, she's here now, and she wants to help. She _can_ help, but you have to let her." said Nadir, kneeling down to get a better view of the girl's face. "Meg, will you tell Erik what Christine told you?"

Erik's heart managed to perform a flip at the sound of his angel's name. "What did she tell you? What were her _exact_ words?"

Meg, looked up at him, and wiped her face. "She phoned earlier today. She said she would get you back."

Erik felt his breath catch in his throat, and he clumsily reached up to massage his aching neck. Christine was fighting for him. She was fighting for him just as hard as he was fighting for her. Erik closed his eyes. He could see Christine dancing there, behind his eyelids. She was smiling at him. "She said..."

Nadir's voice cut through the air. "Meg, you know where the video is, don't you?"

Meg winced, nodding as she hid her face in her hands. "Yes. The video, and the... _Photos_."

"You've seen them?" Erik asked incredulously.

"Yes. Carlotta showed me the photos. She said... That you would do the same thing to me, if I told you what she was up to." Meg sniffed, removing her arms from her face to rub her arms. "I'm sorry. I never meant you hurt the both of you."

"It's alright, Meg." Nadir comforted, patting the girl's shoulder.

"That... _Damn_ woman!" Erik cursed, gritting his teeth. "Where does she keep them?"

"They're in the safe in her room. She doesn't know that _I_ know the code she chose." Meg added, weakly smiling. "So I can help you open the safe."

"I don't need your help." Erik hissed. "I... I need _her_."

Nadir and Antoinette stared at him as he sank into the chair behind him. Erik had too many things running through his head to be able to pay them any attention, but a hand on his knee made him jump, and he looked up to see Meg leaning forward.

"I'm sorry, for everything I've put you two through. I didn't mean to, and I totally get that you're angry with me, but I'm going to help you, whether you want my help or not."

Erik nodded stiffly, staring at her lingering hand on his knee in distain. She removed it swiftly, and blushed, glancing up at her mother.

Antoinette smiled at her daughter, calmly as she took her hand, and squeezed it. She looked up at her, her smile gone, and said, "Erik, you need to go hide outside Carlotta's room while we draw her out. Then you can sneak in and-"

Erik growled, standing up. "No, no _sneaking_. I'm going to go take care of this. _Now_. Is she in her room?"

Meg nodded warily. "Yes, she's alone."

"Good. Then I shall see her." Erik announced, grinning widely as he maniacally left the office. He hadn't even considered what fun he could have with the disgusting parasite. "And then I shall see _Christine_!"

Nadir followed him out, his eyes darting about as the hotel guests that had gathered in the lobby started taking notice of the both of them. They stopped and stared, pointing at his mask, whispering to each other, but Erik ignored them all as he focused on the elevators, his mind whirring as he thought of all of the cruel words Carlotta had told him, the evil things she had made him do. Erik pushed aside the odd person who had frozen in their path to look at him, and he strode powerfully over to the elevator, Nadir jogging to keep up with his long strides.

"Erik! Wait, _wait_! Are you sure about this, do you really want to confront her?"

"Yes, Nadir." Erik snapped irritably. "She has to pay, she has to go away and I have to make sure there are no loose ends. The girl may be an accomplice, but she is a pawn. Giry's daughter was just a tool."

Nadir furrowed his brow. "Then I'm coming with you."

Erik shook his head. "No. I shall handle this myself, and I shall _enjoy_ it."

Nadir panicked, taking hold of Erik's sleeve as the elevator doors opened, preventing Erik from entering it. "Erik, you're not going to kill her, are you?" He whispered.

Erik looked down at his friend. "N-No. Christine..." He sighed, then laughed miserably. "I have thought about it. Nothing would make me happier than to see Carlotta dead, but Christine would not like it. You know, Christine said I should kill her, but I know she was not being serious. Christine would never wish hate on _anyone_."

Nadir blinked. "Christine said that?"

"Yes. I was killing this spider, because they scare her Nadir. Can you imagine that? She can love a deformed _freak_, but the sight of the spider had her leaping out of my arms. Anyway, I tried to kill it, but she stopped me. She said I shouldn't kill something just because it scared her. She said that Carlotta scared her, and that if I was going to kill the spider because it scared her, then I should kill her as well." Erik looked up. "So I will not kill her."

Nadir looked up at Erik, a concerned but understanding expression on his face as he spoke. "Then what will you do?"

Erik chuckled, tugging his sleeve out of Nadir's grasp, before stepping into the elevator. "If Carlotta wants to sing, then I shall give her a song. A swan song, some would call it. It shall be her last. Now, Nadir, the code for her safe, you know it?"

"Yes." Nadir admitted uneasily. "It's the date of when she... When you invited her to your apartment."

"Of course. I expect nothing less from her."

Nadir watched him with worried eyes until the last second, when the doors closed, and Erik was left alone with his thoughts. He knew exactly what he was going to do. It would be so easy just to tip her mind over the edge. She was already quite unstable, and one firm push would topple the pyramid of plans that Carlotta had created. It would so easy to suggest to Carlotta that her plan was useless, that she would not win. And anything else he told her would be an added bonus.

Erik slipped out of the elevator, and excitedly made his way to Carlotta's door. He ignored the 'Do Not Disturb' sign, and rapped his knuckles against the door, waiting only for a few seconds for Carlotta to appear, as the door swung open to reveal her shiny face, her hair tied up scruffily into a bun, and a crimson dressing robe. Erik felt his lip curl uncomfortably as he chuckled. Carlotta looked surprised, but hid it well as she smirked at him, tying her robe.

"Erik, as _flattered_ as I am, I wasn't serious about letting you fuck me." She said slyly. "Not that I'm your type. You like empty headed dolls, don't you? Perhaps I should get you an inflatable doll-"

"When you have quite finished, Madam." Erik interrupted heatedly, feeling his energy triple as Carlotta's eyes widened. "Oh, haven't you _missed_ me, Carlotta?"

"I... I..." Carlotta stammered uncertainly, put off by Erik's pleased mood. "Do you think _Christine_ misses you? I-"

"Oh, but Carlotta, that is the _joy_ of it! She _does_ miss me." Erik laughed, pushing Carlotta aside as he entered the room. "Christine misses her Erik, and she is fighting for him. Christine will get her Erik back. That is what she said."

Carlotta gave a sudden, disgusted shriek, a hundred different horrified expressions playing on her face. "You _spoke_ to her?"

"_No_!" Erik laughed hysterically as he went to stand before the safe that sat below the large HD screen. "A little _birdie_ told me. You were wrong, by the way. Your slaves feel no loyalty to you. So, I thought it was time to steal them back."

Carlotta's face began to twitch, outraged that he had turned her words against him once more. Her eyes zipped down to the safe Erik stood beside, then back up to him, her face forming a sneer as she glowered at him. "_Meg_."

"Yes. I must applaud you on your victim choice. Had you been one of my students, I would be very proud. Unfortunately, your execution leaves little to be desired. Much like your voice." Erik noted cheerily. "You would have made a very fine _toad_, I think, with all your bellowing. Perhaps in another life."

Carlotta flinched, her eyes drawn down to the safe once more. "You... You..."

"I like your idea of justice, by the way. It pleases me greatly. I _agree_, we _shouldn't_ drag our dirty laundry out into the streets. There no need to involve any courts or the media. There's no need to tell _anyone_ of our _madness_." Erik stated, kneeling down beside the safe. "It _is_ madness that consumes us, Carlotta. You and I both. It's funny, we are quite suitable for each other, in that respect."

Carlotta laughed nervously, her lips trembling as she clutched desperately at the dressing robe. With each passing second, Erik could feel the control she had laid claim to slowly slipping away.

"I think I'm quite right in saying that your soul is _just_ as twisted as my face. Sometimes, I wonder if your deformity is worse than _mine_, even!" Erik

Carlotta's eyes narrowed as she managed to resolve her strength. "At least I can hide my deformity. _Yours_ will last forever! Christine might miss you, but she doesn't miss your face!"

Erik's head shot up, his legs getting terrible cramps as he held himself back from launching at the woman. Carlotta's eyes blazed, and she smiled once more.

"Well, it is a face _not even_ a mother could love."

Erik leapt up, his voice echoing through the room as he roared, and took Carlotta's slender neck with his hands. He managed to squeeze her throat before she could scream, and she shut her eyes, whimpering beneath him as he shoved her hard against the wall as he held her head up to face him, effortlessly holding her against the wall as she struggled to pull his hands away from her throat. Erik could feel his breath beating against his face as he seethed beneath his mask, nostrils flaring as he dug his fingers into her hair, twisting it about. Carlotta looked up at him with renewed vigor.

"Here we... are again... _Erik_." Carlotta coughed, her voice becoming light and eery, her eyes wide and crazy as she began to laugh. "Can you... do it this time? Can you..._ kill me_?"

Visions of Christine writhing beneath his hands appeared before Erik, her eyes empty and glazed over, and Erik stared in horror as Carlotta began to dig her nails into his gloves, bringing him out of his memory.

_Christine... I..._

"_Do it!_" Carlotta screeched, dragging her nails along the back of his hands, scratching him viciously as she still fought against him.

Erik snarled, and squeezed Carlotta's throat tighter. Carlotta stopped scratching, and tried to peel his fingers from around her neck, her face turning white as she choked.

Erik slowly leaned in to rest the mask's cheek against hers. "I could, Carlotta. You have seen how easily I could snap your neck. But I will not. And it is because of _her_, that I will not. You owe her your _life_. You _should_ worship her name and praise her, for the mercy I am showing you now."

Erik chuckled as she loosened his grip from around her neck. "But here is some advice that you _will_ follow, whether you wish to or not, _you will stay away from her_."

Carlotta slowly peered up at him at the tone of his voice. Erik had poured all of his rage, all of his madness into the great storm that had become his voice, and she was listening to him, as though she had never heard a person's voice before. She looked at him in wondrous fear, and it gave Erik tremendous pleasure to watch her fall limp against the wall, her head rolling about loosely as she continued to watch him. He leant in once more, burying his face into her hair, pressing the mask's lips to her ear as he began to whisper to her everything that she would do.

He pulled himself away after a few minutes, grinning beneath his mask. "All of this hate, and this rage, for _music_? My dear, were you not a terrible singer, I would commend you on your actions. You love music, dearly, do you not? Then I shall give you a parting gift. I shall _sing_ for you, and you shall have the pleasure of _watching_ me sing! It has been what you want all along, hasn't it, _darling_? To see my face?"

Despite Carlotta's stupor, her doped expression still managed to flinch. Erik ignored it, and pulled a hand away from her throat, to reach underneath his mask to press the button that would split the mask in half. Carlotta began to tremble, weeping as she slowly began to sink to the floor, her back to the wall as Erik still held onto her neck. She could not close her eyes. She could only stare in fearful awe at him.

"Oh no, Carlotta, you've never been shy _before_. Come, look upon my face, it is to _die_ for!" Erik taunted mercilessly, grasping the front of the mask.

Erik began to sing. He pulled the mask away, the back half hitting his shoulder as it fell to the floor, and he watched with rapture as Carlotta squirmed beneath his vice like grip. Erik placed the mask on the floor, and bowed his head closer to hers as she finally saw every devastating detail for herself, the physical proof of the warped soul that Erik possessed. Carlotta tried to turn her head away, sobbing wretchedly, but her eyes were glued to Erik's face as she took in every detail, every hideous inch of his monstrous skin. She was beginning to sweat, and several times Erik had to adjust his grip on her neck as he held her. Erik continued to sing as she numbly tried to shove him away, but she was too weak, too subdued, too consumed by his voice to be able to resist him. No human alive could resist his voice. She could not protest. She could not call for help. She could do nothing but cry as Erik's lyrical, lilting melody made her heart beat faster. Erik came to the crushing crescendo, and Carlotta's eyes clouded over as her body began to relax. Erik didn't need to hold her anymore, and he pulled his hands away from her, snickering as Carlotta fell onto her side, her arms splayed out as she stared straight ahead of her, her unfocused eyes wide as she lay her head against the floor.

Erik had to take several deep breaths, tears rolling down his cheeks as he tried to control his breathing. Erik had never let a single person see his face in ten years. To see the kind of reaction that his face could still bring would haunt him in his nightmares. To see Carlotta scream the way she did, to see her horrified face, even after he had started to sing, had cut his heart to ribbons. Carlotta was right. It was a face not even a mother could love. Erik shakily reached for the two halves of his mask, ignoring Carlotta's stupefied state, to put it on before he attended to Carlotta's safe. Erik numbly unlocked the safe, sniffing hard as more tears began to flow. He wished he could stop his wobbling hands, but all he could see was Christine's eyes rolling into the back of her head as he strangled her to death in his dream, and Carlotta's labored breathing behind him as he pulled out the large brown envelope, and a video cassette. He tucked them away inside his jacket, and stood up, observing Carlotta as her fingers twitched, her face twitching horrendously. She would not awaken from her state for a few hours, and she would not remember anything, but the orders he had whispered into her ear. It would take some time before he would see any results, a few months perhaps, but Erik was sure that the display would prove to most entertaining.

Erik stepped over her body, and opened the door. He rubbed his chest as he cleared his throat. He needed to appear to be quite sane if he was to meet Nadir downstairs. His chest felt as though it was on fire, and he was relieved to feel it. He had thought that he would never feel the flame in his heart again, the flame that belonged to Christine. Erik could breathe a little easier now. The path before him was clear, and waiting for him at the other end was Christine. If Erik had the choice between breathing and loving Christine, then he would use his last breath to tell Christine that he loved her.

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**I hope you all enjoy this chapter! It's a little longer than usual! **

**Thank you all for your reviews!**


	70. Chapter 70

**_Kate Bush's "The Man With The Child In His Eyes"_**

_I hear him _  
_Before I go to sleep _  
_And focus on the day _  
_That's been. _  
_I realize he's there _  
_When I turn the light off _  
_And turn over. _

_Nobody knows about my man. _  
_They think he's lost on some horizon. _  
_And suddenly I find myself listening _  
_To a man I've never known before, _  
_Telling me about the sea, _  
_Oh his love is to eternity. _

_Ooh he's here again, _  
_The man with the child in his eyes. _  
_Ooh he's here again, _  
_The man with the child in his eyes. _

_He's very understanding and he's so _  
_Aware of all my situations. _  
_When I stay up late _  
_He's always with me _  
_What I feel when I hesitate. _  
_Oh I'm so worried about my love. _  
_They say "no, no it won't last forever". _  
_And here I am again my girl, _  
_Wondering what on earth I am doing here. _  
_Maybe he doesn't love me, _  
_I just took a trip on my love for him. _

_Ooh he's here again, _  
_The man with the child in his eyes. _  
_Ooh he's here again, _  
_The man with the child in his eyes._

* * *

Christine didn't want to leave London, she didn't want to end on such bad terms with Raoul, but Erik needed her, and every minute that passed that she was not beside him meant that he was not beside her as well. She couldn't begin to imagine what pain Erik must have been going through, but that did not mean that she could not forget Raoul's. Raoul, despite his ill-timed announcement, had only wanted the best for her, and was now suffering because of her. Christine wished she could express how sorry she was that she could not love him the way he wanted her to, but she could not force her heart to love him. He would always be the dearest of friends, she would _always_ welcome him with open arms, and one day, if he needed her, she would be there, but she would not conform to his expectations just to please him. Raoul had kept his feelings from her so that she could learn for herself _her _true feelings, and Christine would have thanked him for his consideration, but she still felt wronged by him. All of those years, he hadn't been truthful with her, all the memories of their time together building up in her head. Running about the school playground, playing hide and seek on Raoul's family estate, sharing secrets over coffee and helping each other out with their homework. Every single one of those memories seemed different now, as though she had pulled a blindfold from her eyes, and she could see the world a little more clearer now.

Christine hoped Raoul would not stay away forever. She understood that he needed time, she needed it too, but before her trip to New York, they had rarely spent any time away from each other, apart from when Raoul left to visit his family, but even those times hadn't been for very long. She didn't know what she would do without her best friend. He was such an important part of her life, that to consider him no longer her friend tore at her. As wrong as he was to kiss her, she was glad she had told him the truth. What confused her though, were Raoul's words about her father. Raoul had said that her father had dropped hints, but Christine couldn't understand what that meant. Raoul had insinuated that her father had thought that they would end up together, that he had _wanted_ them together, but Christine couldn't believe it. Her father would never presume to know her heart, but had he seen something she had not? She had never seen Raoul's love, but her father had, so wasn't there the chance that her father had seen something in her that suggested to him that she felt the same for Raoul? Was that why Raoul had spent those years pining after her? Had her actions led him on? Was she to blame for his actions, or was it always going to happen? If Christine had never met Erik, if she had continued her life, oblivious to Raoul's feelings, would she have come around to his way of thinking eventually? Would she have fallen in love with him? Would Christine have been happy?

Christine didn't want to consider it. There was no point in considering alternate universes. She _had_ met Erik, and Erik was the one who made her happy. She wasn't sure how she was going to explain to Erik that Raoul had kissed her, or that he loved her, but she would find a way. She would not keep it a secret from Erik, and though she knew it would hurt him, it would hurt him more if she kept it from him. Erik knew she loved him, so surely Erik would not be too angry with her. He wouldn't think that she had betrayed him, would he?

Her mind was like a frayed tapestry, slowly becoming undone as she grabbed her purse, making sure her passport was still inside. Christine was glad to find that most of her American dollars were still tucked away, at least she wouldn't have to worry about grabbing a taxi when she got to New York. Christine had grabbed the smaller of the suitcases that still resided in her living room, and had moved into her bedroom, grabbing fresh clothes and underwear before she began to freshen herself up. She had looked into the mirror to check her appearance, but it wasn't looking any better than before. Her eyes were still red, her hair was a sweaty mess of ringlets, and she looked as though she hadn't slept in weeks. Yanking on a black T-shirt, Christine wondered how Erik was coping. He must have been suffering, and the sooner Christine got to New York, the sooner she could see him, and the sooner she could help him.

Christine wasn't quite sure how she was going to stop Carlotta. Christine had hoped that she would be reasonable, but it was very unlikely, as Carlotta was keen to make everyone unhappy. She certainly knew what she wanted, and she didn't seem like the type of person who would let go of something once they had it. Christine could see that Carlotta must have planned everything for quite some time, ever since the night that Erik had refused her, and it must have been the root of all of their problems. Carlotta was looking for payback, and it couldn't have just been because Erik had spurned her. Erik had said that Carlotta had tried to remove his mask, but he hadn't mentioned what had happened afterwards, and all sorts of situations occurred to Christine as she thought about it. Carlotta had mentioned Erik's temper, and Meg had mentioned that Carlotta had needed to recuperate after their evening, so whatever Erik had done to Carlotta, it must have been traumatizing for the both of them. Christine didn't want to believe it, she didn't want to think that Erik could hurt anyone ever, but she had known from the beginning, that Erik was not like most men. Erik was like a tiger in a cage, wild and out of control, living through his emotions, and if someone rattled the cage, and those emotions got the better of him, then wasn't it was only a matter of time until someone got hurt? If Carlotta had been the one to unlock that cage, then would Erik not lash out at her?

If Erik had... attacked Carlotta, then was it safe to be around him? Christine had _always_ felt safe around him, but Erik had on a number of occasions proved that his emotions _did_ get the better of him. Had Raoul been right in calling him dangerous? Erik would never seriously consider hurting her, he wanted to make her happy, but was there even the slightest chance that Erik could lose control one day? Was that why he had submitted to Carlotta? Did Erik think he would hurt her, and that by trying to keep himself away from her, he was protecting her? Christine loved him, she would still go to New York and find him, but she was scared of what she would find. She needed to hear Erik's voice, she needed to be reassured. If he told her that he would never hurt her, then she would believe him. She would love him no matter what, but she needed to figure out a way of making Erik see that he needed to treat her carefully, or risk losing her forever. Christine tried to put those thoughts away and concentrated on her mission. Removing Carlotta from the equation.

Christine just didn't know what it was that Carlotta had over Erik. It must have been something terrible, something that Erik did not want anyone to know about. It made Christine worried, but whatever it was, she would help Erik through it. She was just concerned that whatever it was that Carlotta had managed to get her hands on, it was something that she shouldn't see. Erik had mentioned at the party that they were some things that she would never be able to forgive him for, but Erik was so unusual in his ways, that it could have meant anything. If it was something about Erik, some item from his past that he didn't want her to see, would it destroy their relationship if she found out about it? Would it really be something that she could not forgive him for? Yet another thought to consider as she dragged her suitcase down the stairs and out the front door. Christine wished she could just talk to Erik, let him know that she was coming for him. He had given her away, thinking he would never see her again, and while Christine was sure that Erik had been doing what he believed to be right, she was annoyed that she had had no say in the matter. She would have to talk to him about that, and made sure he knew it was wrong to have done that to her, but Christine knew that the moment she saw him, she'd forget everything and just be so relieved to see him.

Mr. Hollis jogged up the steps to take her suitcase from her, and she smiled awkwardly at him as she asked him to take her to the airport. She had pulled her phone out to book a plane ticket for her, but Mr. Hollis had surprised her by telling her that there would be a plane waiting for her once they arrived at the airport, and Christine had watched, stunned as he pulled out his phone to call someone, asking her for a destination as he waited to be connected. She had told him New York, and Mr Hollis had hesitated until she told him that she was going whether he was going to drive her or not, and he gave in. Christine got into the car, and buried her head in her hands as Mr. Hollis loaded her suitcase into the boot.

_Erik, you're so... you... Why would I need a plane, Erik? Honestly, you go overboard on these things._ Christine thought, sighing. _I can't believe you thought I would be happy with these things. I can't believe you thought I would be happy without you._

They drove through London, Christine's head feeling very heavy by the time they reached the hanger in the airport, and she almost stumbled out of the car as she tried to keep her head together. She couldn't stop thinking about Raoul, the expression in his eyes before he left, or of Erik, who would probably crush her in his embrace once he saw her. Then there was Nadir, who had refused her calls, and Carlotta who was the real threat in her eyes. There was so much to do, so many people to mend her relationships with, and it all weighed heavily on her mind. She wished she had someone to talk through her fears with, but the one person who she had relied on for these sorts of situations had left her. Christine climbed onto the plane, happy to see there was only one stewardess looking after her this time, and Christine sat in her seat, gripping the armrests tightly as she stared into her lap for the entire journey. Christine thought about Erik, about Raoul, about Carlotta, and tried not to cry, but she was so angry with herself. If she had only seen it all coming, if only she was a little smarter. If only she hadn't been so caught up in everything. She felt stupid and immature, undeserving of anyone's love, and she was trapped, alone with her thoughts for several hours as she played with her silver bracelet.

Christine had managed to grab herself a taxi, telling the driver to head straight for the Winchester, and he had recognized her. He had mispronounced her last name, but he still knew it was her, and she was irritated by the amount of questions he asked her about Erik, and Christine had to hold her hands over her ears and squeeze her eyes shut to block out any more reminders of the differences between Erik and Raoul. At the beginning of their relationship, when Erik had discovered that she had once dated Raoul, she had hoped that they would find enough similarities between them to get along, she wanted them to be friends, but now they would never be able to get along. As the driver continued his interview, the theme turning out to be Erik's mask, Christine hadn't even considered what the mask meant now, now that she could guess as to what had happened when Carlotta had tried to remove it. If Erik had hurt a stranger just to hide his face, then what would he do to make sure Christine never saw it? Would he keep it on for the rest of his life? Would she never get to bury her hands in his hair, look into his eyes, or kiss him? Would Christine never be able to share a meal with him? Would she ever have a normal life with him? Erik suggested designing a mask before she left, one that he would wear in her alone, and she had fantasized that the mask would not be as clunky as his current one. If he thought that he would never see her again, did that mean he had thrown it away, that he had given up on it? If Christine succeeded, and she managed to get Erik back, with Carlotta gone forever, would he go back to designing a mask, or would he keep his old one? Now that he knew she loved him, would he trust her enough to let her see his face, or would he hide himself away in the hopes of never scaring her?

Christine arrived at the Winchester, and dragged her suitcase behind her, ready to collapse into the nearest seat, but she had to find Meg, or her mother, and try to convince them that Carlotta was using Erik, that he needed her, but her mind was a blank as she approached the reception desk. Christine felt ready to keel over, but she muttered out her request to some man behind the desk, and he had escorted her to Ms. Giry's office, watching her closely as he tried to talk to her. Christine tried to listen, but her energy was wasted, and it was a trial to just stay standing and follow the man. It was clear he knew who she was, as he called her by her first name, though she hadn't told it to him, and he was in a very good mood, and for some reason, very eager to talk to her, but she ignored him as she numbly followed him. Christine wasn't sure why the man hadn't just called for either Meg or her mother on the radio attached to his hip, but it didn't matter, as they had arrived outside Ms. Giry's office within a few minutes, where loud, happy, _drunk_ chattering stirred her into a more aware state. The man had opened the door, announced her name, and then stepped back with a large grin on his face as she stepped in slowly.

Christine looked up to see Ms. Giry sitting behind her desk, staring up at her with wide eyes as she placed the champagne bottle she had been holding onto on the desk, and Nadir swinging his head around to gape at her, his cheeks blushing red as he held up a half empty glass. He groaned, and slammed his head on the desk, letting it rest there for a few moments as Nadir muttered to himself. Christine didn't know what to think, and stared at their glasses, their merry state and their surprise at her appearance. Nadir lifted his head, and stared bleakly at Ms. Giry, pointing at Christine as he asked,

"Do _you_ see her?"

Ms. Giry stood up, ignoring Nadir as she moved from around her desk to Christine, grabbing her arms. Christine was shocked at first, blinking rapidly as she tried to pull the woman's hands away, but she gave up. She didn't have the energy to resist the woman, and she was so confused. The two of them looked as though they were celebrating, and she couldn't understand how they could be so happy when she was so miserable.

"Christine, what are you doing here?" Ms. Giry asked, staring at Christine curiously. "You look...Christine, are you alright?"

"I'm just tired." Christine remarked, allowing Ms. Giry to guide her over to her seat behind the desk. Christine would have collapsed had it not been for Ms. Giry holding her up, and she looked up at her, smiling as the older woman fretted over her. "I haven't slept in nearly a whole day at least."

"You must be _exhausted_." Ms. Giry complained, placing a warm hand on her cheek, before taking Christine's suitcase from her to rest it against the wall. "I'll have someone bring you some coffee while Nadir fills you in."

"Thank you, coffee would be great." Christine muttered as she watched Ms. Giry leave the room.

Nadir was watching her, and Christine watched him back. Christine had plenty of questions to ask him, but in the last day, she had not given much thought to him, and found that she was suddenly unprepared for this meeting. Nadir was aghast, squinting at her as his mouth hung open, before staring around him as though searching for someone. He turned to look at her, and Christine sighed, pinching herself as she tried to stay awake. She didn't want to though, she _wanted_ to sleep. She wouldn't have to think about Erik, or Raoul, or Carlotta, she could just dream and not have to worry about a thing. Sleep sounded like a very good idea, and it was very hard to resist that idea now that she was in New York, and sitting in a very comfortable chair, but she refused to let Nadir out of her sight until she had said her peace.

"C-Christine?" Nadir looked at his glass, then back up at her. "_Please_ tell me you're not here."

"I _am_ here." Christine said sleepily.

"You should be in London." He cried, and Christine glared at him.

"You should have answered my calls." Christine retorted unhappily, resting her head in one hand as she watched him.

Nadir frowned, placing his glass on the desk, and mumbled, "You think I _wanted_ to ignore your calls?"

"I don't know what to think." Christine said honestly.

"Erik would have killed me if he thought I was talking to you." Nadir continued, feeling up the inside of his jacket as he looked for something.

"Yes." Christine sighed, thinking about his words as she rubbed her eyes. "I don't doubt that."

Nadir paused, and swung his head up to look at her. He had heard her unusual tone and pointed a finger at her. "You..."

"_I_ am tired, _you_ are drunk, and _we_ need to come up with a plan." Christine pestered, following Nadir's fingers as it struggled to stay in the same spot in the air. "You probably know more than me right now, and I need you to tell me what you know about all of this-"

"Christine." Nadir whispered, sniffing as he closed his hands, waving his hand about to dismiss her.

"Nadir, I'm serious, I'm not standing by and-"

"_Christine._" Nadir exclaimed, suddenly grabbing her hand as he leant forward, covering his mouth with his other hand.

Christine looked up, alarmed. "What?"

"You _wonderful_ girl."

Christine blinked, and pulled her hand away, cringing as she thought of Raoul's disappointed expression. Nadir wouldn't say such things if he knew what had happened back in London. "Perhaps we ought to save this for when we're both a little more awake-"

"Erik is in _London_." Nadir laughed, chuckling to himself drunkedly as he grinned toothily at her. "That's why we're _drunk_. We're all celebrating!"

Christine stared at the champagne bottle, knitting her eyebrows together as she looked back up at him. "I... I don't understand."

Nadir leaned back in his seat, and reached back into his jacket again, searching for something. He sighed happily, "Carlotta is no longer a problem - Aha!"

Nadir's fingers had finally found the opening in the jacket's inside pocket, and he stuck his fingers in, wiggling them as he pulled a silly face, and brought out a long silver tin. He opened it up, to pull out the single cigar that had been sitting inside it.

"You know, Christine, all these years I've saved this cigar in the hopes that-"

"Nadir. What do you mean, Erik's in London?" Christine asked, placing a hand on her forehead as she stared at him. "_Why_ is he... What do you _mean_, Carlotta is no longer a problem?"

Nadir lit his cigar, taking a few puffs before he answered. "Erik has handled everything. He left about... Um... I think an hour ago but I don't think that's right. Um, well it was about-"

Christine felt her lower lip begin to tremble. "_He's_..."

Nadir looked up, sobered by Christine's trembling voice as she buried her face in her face and began to weep. It was all too much, too much for one day, and Christine just wanted to crawl back into bed, curl herself up into a ball and then cry. She just wanted to see Erik, and though she knew it was stupid to cry, she couldn't help it. Her whole world had changed in such a small amount of time, in a matter of hours she had lost her best friend, came to some startling revelations about Erik and now he wasn't even here to comfort her. She just wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her, she wanted him to talk to her, so she could listen to his voice and feel so much better than she did now. Her mind felt like it was melting in the New York heat, and Christine tried to control herself as she looked up, ashamed of her actions as Nadir stared at her, wide eyed as he reached his hand out.

"_Christine_..." Nadir whispered sadly, staring at her with pity.

Christine took his hand, touched by his concern, and she took comfort from the way he squeezed her fingers. "Please Nadir, is he really in London?"

"Yes, he's... He left to get you."

"And Carlotta? I don't know if I'm right, but I thought that maybe she had something on Erik-"

"And she doesn't anymore." Nadir said, watching the ash from his cigar drop onto Ms Giry's desk. "Erik has succeeded in taking it back."

"So do you know what it is, then?" Christine asked, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. "What she had on him?"

Nadir regarded her seriously, and nodded. "I do."

"And... And..." Christine looked down. "Is it... What is it?"

Nadir looked down as well, pulling his hand away. "It is Erik's business, and it is his to discuss."

"I know that, Nadir, but... It must be something bad if Erik fought this hard to hide it." Christine said, tucking her hands away in her lap.

"Christine, Erik is still the same man, he has not changed in any way. He is simply troubled by his past. He has not had a kind life. Part of that blame is mine. I took him to Iran, and it is because of me that Erik has suffered so much more than he should have." Nadir said, watching her. "He loves you. He loves you so much that he was willing to give you away, to give you the life he thought you deserved. A life without him. He doesn't think he deserves you, he thinks he'll hurt you, and you'll hate him. He was scared that he could not make you happy. I had to tell him at least twenty times that you loved him and he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact-"

Christine sniffed. "You... You _had_ to tell him?"

Nadir smiled crookedly. "I hope you don't mind. I know you would have liked to have told him yourself-"

"I did tell him." Christine spoke. "I... I did tell him."

Nadir's eyebrows lifted. "Are you sure? Erik made no mention of you having told him."

Christine's heart fluttered, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Erik... _Didn't know_? He... He... But I _told_ him! I said the words! I _said_..."

She tried to remember the way she had been standing before Erik, the way his mask had been tilted down to look at her, but the only thing she could remember was the voice that had sung her name, as though it had come from all around her, through the walls, straight down from Heaven. The voice that had taken Erik away from her. She had been standing in front of him one second, and the next, she had been on the plane that had taken her back to London. That voice had to have belonged to someone, and it could only have been an angel to have sung so powerfully and so... _Sadly_.

Christine opened her eyes. "It was Erik."

Christine felt as though another piece of her heart had cracked. Erik had given her away, not knowing that she loved him, and his last words to her had been to sing her name. Erik's love for her was so overwhelming. How had she ever doubted him? Erik had let her clean his mask, she had kissed it over a dozen times. He _trusted_ her. He would never hurt her, not when she brought him so much joy, and she could forgive him when he did slip up. Erik did apologize every time, and he truly meant it, but she needed to show him how these kind of actions did lead to negative reactions. She would just have to be patient with him.

Nadir looked puzzled. "Erik?"

"Erik, he... He put me to sleep before I could say it." Christine said, looking down into her lap. "I was in the middle of saying it. I was telling him, right there and then that I loved him, but he stopped me before I could say it. All this time, he didn't know?"

Nadir's face wrinkled as he smirked. "He's only just found out."

They glanced at each other, and despite the events of the day, they chuckled. Christine wondered if Nadir was imagining the same thing as her, of Erik tearing through London, trying to find her, only to discover that she was back in New York. Christine laughed awkwardly as she closed her eyes, rubbing them as she tried to stay awake.

"We'd better call him then." Christine said, yawning as she rested her head against her hand, smiling as she leant back in her seat.

"Yes, but there is something else you need to know." Nadir said, looking up at her seriously.

"Oh please, no more! I'm so _tired_!" Christine cried. "What else can possibly go wrong?"

* * *

**I've decided to upload it once every two days. Thank you so much for your input and your support!**

**Thank you all for your reviews! 3**


	71. Chapter 71

**_Stevie Wonders "Signed, Sealed, Delivered"_**

_Like a fool I went and stayed too long_  
_Now I'm wondering if your love's still strong_  
_Oo, baby, here I am, signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours!_

_Then that time I went and said goodbye_  
_Now I'm back and not ashamed to cry_  
_Oo, baby, here I am, signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours!_

_Here I am baby_  
_Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm yours_  
_(You got my future in your hands)_  
_Here I am baby_  
_Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm yours_  
_(You got my future in your hands)_

_I've done a lot of foolish things_  
_That I really didn't mean, didn't I?_

_Seen a lot of things in this old world_  
_When I touch them, they mean nothing, girl_  
_Oo, baby, here I am, signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours!_

_Oh baby, you set my soul on fire_  
_That's why I know you're my heart's only desire_

_Here I am baby_  
_Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm yours_  
_(You got my future in your hands)_  
_Here I am baby_  
_Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm yours_  
_(You got my future in your hands)_

* * *

Erik was the happiest of men as he floated through the lobby, he felt so _human_, despite the inhuman way he had treated Carlotta. Even with Nadir asking him a dozen questions as he trailed after him, Erik could not help but hold his head high, as would any man in his position. There was nothing that could distract him from the goal of reaching Christine, and not even the strange gawking of the hotel guests and staff could throw him. Christine was only a few hours away, unaware that he was coming for her, and Erik would do everything in his power to make her smile again. There was no doubt in Erik's mind that Christine would be angry with him, but Erik would be smiling the whole time he stood before her, accepting every decree that she passed, as long as he was allowed to stand in the same room as her. She _loved_ him. Erik would accept that love, no matter what form it came in. To have Christine, even an angry Christine, would make his life complete. Erik could think of nothing else, but Nadir was persistent with his questions, and wouldn't let him leave until he confessed to what had happened in Carlotta's room after such a short amount of time. Erik, to appease him, informed him that he had bested Carlotta, handing him the evidence gleefully as Nadir stood in shock, and told him that Carlotta would most definitely not be a problem, and that she would be checking out in a few hours. Even Nadir had to grin at that news, and he did, patting his jacket triumphantly. Erik had excitedly given Nadir permission to give every member of staff a raise, with a bonus, and a free bottle of champagne, and anything else he could think of, clapping his hands on his friend's shoulders, and Nadir had laughed at him, promising him that he would take care of everything as Erik swiftly exited the building, practically floating on air by the time he had arrived at the airport.

The flight had taken too long, and the stewardess that had served him had wisely kept her distance from him, as Erik had been a bundle of nerves. He had been constantly getting up to walk about the plane, tapping his feet impatiently and drumming his fingers along the desk as he waited. Erik had tried to plan what he would say to Christine, but his mind was a blank, and he knew it would remain a blank until he came face to face with her. Erik hoped she would smile when she saw him. He hoped that she'd run towards him and completely envelope him in her tiny embrace. Erik was worried though. If Christine loved him, then would she not have been in pain? She would likely be distraught at the sight of him, and Erik wasn't sure if he could stomach the thought of Christine refusing to speak with him. _Would_ she shun him? Would she curse his name? It was all too much to consider, there were too many possible outcomes to such a delicate situation. Erik attempted to distract himself with thoughts of what he would do if Christine did forgive him, but all he could think of was Christine slipping her fingers between his, Christine resting her head against his shoulder, Christine looking up with her soft blue eyes with a smile just for him. The memory, and the promise, of Christine was killing him, and he had to make several threats to the pilots to make himself feel better, taking private joy in the worried glances they gave each other. Nadir had texted him at some point, though what the man had been trying to say, Erik couldn't make out, as it was all a jumble of letters, and it looked as though it belonged on a scrabble board instead of on his phone. Erik had ignored it, whatever Nadir had to say could wait, but Erik could not wait for Christine, and he used his remaining few hours to prepare himself for their eventual meeting, making a few phone calls to arrange transport once he was in London, and he turned his phone on silent, as Nadir's increasingly unintelligible texts began to pester him.

Erik had raced across London, once he arrived, giving the address to the driver as he got into the back of a discreet, black car, and after more unproductive waiting, he had found himself staring up at the house that Christine called home. Erik had spent a good few minutes staring up at the windows, hoping to catch a glance of Christine, but he found himself curious as to why there was no car waiting out front. Erik's hands clutched at his pant legs as he considered the fact that Christine may have spurned his gifts. What did that mean? Had been truly been offended by his gifts? He hadn't meant to upset her, Erik had thought only of her welfare, but would she have seen it that way? Did sending away the driver he had provided for her mean that she would spurn him if he too was to appear on her doorstep? Would she accuse him of trying to pay her off? Erik buried his head in his hands. He had to see her, he had to see what he had done to her, but his emotions were constantly fluxing between intense happiness and rock bottom. Erik couldn't think straight, and he wrung his hands pathetically as he stared up at her front door. The driver was watching him through the rearview mirror, and it made Erik's face twitch dreadfully as he tried to rationalize in his head what was mostly likely to be Christine's reaction to seeing him. It was tearing him apart, she could be very happy to see him, or she could be angry, or worse, indifferent. That was what he feared most of all. What if Christine had _thought_ she was in love with him, but now that they had spent time away from each other, she discovered that she had just been caught up in all of the excitement?

Erik shook his head. A missing car could have meant anything, and he was just getting himself worked up. Nadir had reminded him over and over that Christine had told him that she loved him. Christine could very well having been _using_ the car, for all he knew. She would return soon, from wherever she had been, and he would be waiting for her. Erik quickly looked up and down the street, and after he was satisfied that there was no-one in sight, he bolted out of the car, across the road, up the steps that led to her front door, and let himself in. It hadn't been hard, he was surprised to find that the front door was unlocked, and he entered the building, looking about the hallway inquisitively. Erik hoped he was in the right building, but looking around, he found a few pieces of junk mail littering the floor that had her name printed on it. He knelt down to pick it up, and smiled, closing his eyes. She _did_ live here. Erik began looking for any more letters with Christine's name written on it, standing up as he placed her junk mail neatly on a little ledge on the wall. There was a large mirror hanging before him, and he took a moment to check his appearance, though it was a foolish endeavor. Christine would not be impressed with his outfit, and while the mask was clean, it was slightly smudged, and he tried to wipe them away with the cuff of his sleeve as his hands began to shake. Christine could literally be only a few minutes away, and Erik still had no clue what to say to her, and Erik began to panic as he thought of standing before Christine. His voice would crack, his hands would shake and he most likely would just grab her and hope never to let go, but Erik couldn't let himself think about that now. He didn't know how he would present himself, but Erik couldn't keep himself away from Christine, he _had_ to see her. Erik's jacket began to vibrate against his chest, and he reached in to pull out his phone, raising an eyebrow as Nadir's name popped up on his screen.

"Nadir, whatever it is you have to say can wait." Erik asked, trying to stop his hands from repeatedly hitting the mask as he tried to clean it.

Nadir swore grumpily before moaning, "Did you not get my text?"

"I got _gobbledegook_." Erik answered, bemused by Nadir's profanity. "I'm here now, what is it you want?"

"Are you in London?"

"Yes? You knew I would be, Nadir, what has gotten into you?" Erik asked, rolling his eyes as he sighed, climbing up the wooden stairs that would lead to Christine's door.

"You won't believe whose turned up to see you." Nadir groaned lazily, though there was a hint of merriment in his voice.

"Are you drunk?" Erik asked, chuckling.

"I was, I am, and I will be." Nadir said cryptically, and Erik could hear glass tinkling in the background as Nadir joyfully continued on. "Now, this person has come a very long way to see you, and-"

"And I don't _care_." Erik sighed. "Why do you have to pester me with this stuff, Nadir? I left _you_ in charge, didn't I?"

"But it's-"

"Is this really what you called to tell me about? Give them some excuse and get rid of them."

Nadir groaned, and Erik could hear some loud banging on the other end of the line, before Nadir spoke again in a disgruntled tone. "Oh _good_, you're finished with interrupting me. Let me get this straight, you want me to give them an excuse as to why you're not here, and then get rid of them? Alright then," Nadir must have pulled his phone away from his mouth, as he sounded very distant, and Erik's heart stopped as Nadir went on to say in a mocking and harsh tone, "Oh _Christine_, I'm _dreadfully_ sorry, but Erik doesn't _want_ to talk to you, and I think he'd like you to leave-"

Erik paused halfway up the stairs, taking a deep breath as his muscles refused to move anymore, and he almost dropped the phone as he repeated Nadir's words in his head. Nadir had said _Christine_, hadn't he? Had Erik imagined it? He tried to talk, but his voice came out as garbled nonsense. His hands were becoming clammy as every _rational_ thought that had been in his head irrevocably became _irrational_.

"That's for... Interrupting me." Nadir mumbled between burps.

"What... What did you say? Did you just say...?" Erik's face twitched as he looked up the stairs at Christine's door.

"Yes, I did just say Christine. I'm assuming that's what you're referring to." Nadir slurred. "Ugh, the headache I have... going to have... _have _had-"

"She... Christine is... She's there?" Erik asked meekly, placing his fingers to the mask's lips. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, very."

"Are you _quite_ sure, as I believe you're _reasonably_ drunk-"

"_Yes_, Erik." Nadir grunted.

"Then... Then... Why did you tell her that I didn't want to speak to her?!" Erik snapped.

"I didn't, you idiot. She's asleep. She passed out a few minutes ago."

"She's asleep?" Erik felt himself smile.

"Yeah." Nadir yawned. "I left her in Antoinette's office, she'll be okay in there."

Erik closed his eyes. Christine was in New York, and Erik was in London. The whole situation would have been terribly comical to Erik, had it happened to someone else, but because it was happening to him, he could not help but feel that God was keeping him on his toes.

"Why is she _there_? Did you know she would be coming?" Erik asked.

"If I knew, do you think I would have let you walk out the door?" Nadir answered, his voice getting more and more tired.

"How is she? No, Why is she...?" Erik nervously began to pat down his clothes, smoothing them out. "Put her on."

"I _can't_, she's _asleep_-"

"You _have_ to!" Erik cried, raising his voice. "_Please_, Nadir. I know she is tired, but I only need a few seconds, just to hear her voice."

"I am not waking her up." Nadir insisted. "You'll just have to wait."

"Wait?" Erik asked. "You wish for me to _wait_? Have I not waited enough? For God's sake, Nadir, I beg of you, wake her up and relieve me of the torture of _waiting_."

"And you said _I_ wasn't patient." Nadir joked.

Despite the day's events, Erik chuckled out of relief. His knees were shaking, but Erik couldn't sit down, he would be setting off in a few seconds to fly back to New York, to Christine. Christine was in _New York_. How perfectly strange. How strangely perfect. Erik couldn't imagine why she would be there, but at least it meant that she was safe, now that Nadir could watch over her for him. There was a strange silence that settled between them, before Nadir spoke solemnly.

"Erik, Christine is... Christine is in a very delicate place right now. She's very emotional, and you need to careful with her. I think a lot has been weighing on her mind. She came with the intention of ...um..." Nadir groaned again, and a loud bang occurred. "Oh, that's right. She wanted us to stop Carlotta. _Me and her_."

Nadir began to giggle in an odd way, and Erik gave a tired laugh as well. Erik couldn't begin to wrap his mind around what Christine had been thinking, but it was very sweet to think that she was ready to fight her enemies, and for _him_. Christine most definitely could not have taken on Carlotta, in Erik's mind, but the fact that she was willing to, made Erik very happy. He leant against the wall as Nadir swore again, after a few seconds, and continued on.

"Right, um, Christine. Christine is in a very delicate place right now-"

"You said that." Erik reminded him sharply.

"Oh, yes, I did, didn't I? Um, she said that, er, oh, that she told you that she loved you."

Erik furrowed his brow. "I don't recall that."

"No, she said you put her to sleep before she could say it. I think all this time, she's been thinking that she told you, and it's only just occurred to her now that she didn't actually."

"Oh, Christine..." Erik whispered, closing his eyes as a wave of lethargy swept over him. His darling Christine had tried to tell him, Erik had been so close to hearing the words from her lips, but he had stopped her. Erik remembered having interrupted her in the middle of saying something, but he had no idea it had been to... confess her love for him. Erik felt more tears pass his drooping eyelids as he made pitiful whimpering noises. If only he had been patient, a few more seconds and he would never have been able to send her away. Another few seconds, just another few seconds...

"Nadir. You must... You must make her happy. For me. I can't be there, so you must do everything to make her stay. Give her everything. Give her _anything_ she desires. Sell something if you have to, just make sure she stays there. Don't move her, don't... Don't _upset_ her. I'm on my way back, right now."

Nadir apparently hadn't been listening, as he was currently talking to someone else, though his voice was very muffled and distorted. Erik could make out the end of his sentence, however."-did I wake you?"

Erik's eyes sprang open. "Nadir?"

"Hold on, Erik."

Erik angrily jammed the phone closer to the mask's ear, but all he could hear was his own, heavy, rapid breathing, and the sound of the phone scraping against the mask, and Erik had to close his eyes to try and hear Christine's voice. It had to be Christine, it couldn't have been anyone else, and Erik gripped the banister for support as finally, he heard her voice, asking Nadir a question. He couldn't hear her words clearly, but he was certain that it was his Christine. Erik held his hand over his mouth, to stop any noises from reaching the phone reciever as he tried to control his crying. It was Christine, and she was safe, and though her voice was very slow, Christine was most definitely asking for him.

"She's okay... She's okay." Erik murmured to himself.

"Christine wants to talk to you." Nadir said cautiously. "Now, she's still kind of asleep, should I-"

"Put her on. _Now_." Erik panted, yanking on his shirt collar as he tried to cool himself down. How had he gotten so hot? London was freezing, but Erik was boiling like a tea kettle, and Erik propped his head on the wall he was leaning against as he waited for what seemed like an eternity for Christine's voice.

"..._Erik_?" Christine asked sleepily.

Erik swallowed hard. "..._Christine_?" Erik whimpered, like a small child as he sank down the wall, to sit on the stairs as his lips began to tremble.

"Oh, thank God." She sighed lightly, and Erik listened to her breathing as though it was a prayer sent from heaven.

"Christine, are you... I..." Erik couldn't talk. His throat was about to seize up on him, as more tears that threatened to appear made it very difficult for Erik to speak without blubbering like a baby.

It was Christine, it was really her. All his life he had been waiting for her, and the only thing that separated them now were a few thousand miles, but at least he could console himself with the sound of her voice. Christine didn't say anything, but he could hear Nadir panicking about her in the background, and Erik sucked on his lips until he heard her speak.

"Nadir said... You're in London."

"Yes. I am." Erik whispered, the right side of his face twitching into a smile. "I'm at your apartment."

Christine groaned so sweetly, her voice becoming more and more garbled as she shakily answered, "Okay. Good."

Erik dug his nails into his thigh. "Christine, do you... because... I..."

"Don't say it." Christine whispered. "_Please_..."

Christine's voice dropped off, and Erik clutched at the phone desperately. "_Christine_?"

"Not until... I'm standing in front of you." Christine finished.

Erik drew in a shaky breath, nodding as he answered. "Okay."

"We have a lot to talk about. But not over the phone." There was a loud thud, and Erik sat up in his seat, alarmed. Christine was still on the phone, but her breathing was very slow and heavy. She must have been trying very hard to stay awake for him.

"Christine, are you _very_ tired?" Erik asked, tracing the contours of the mask's lips as he stared at his feet.

"Erik, you have no idea." She mumbled, before laughing a single heavy laugh.

"Then get some sleep, Erik will be with you soon." Erik licked his lips. Christine did not sound angry, she sounded very happy to hear him, despite how tired she sounded.

"Wait... Wait..." Christine protested weakly.

"What. What is it, Christine?" Erik asked, rubbing his chest.

"Ask my landlord to let you in."

"Into what?"

"My flat. Make yourself at home."

"There's no need, I can fly back to New York while you sleep." Erik objected, almost whining.

"No, it's okay, I'll fly there. I'll feel a lot better about coming home if you're there waiting for me." Christine said vaguely. "Please, don't leave."

"I won't." Erik swore.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"...Nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice again." Christine gave a slow, sleepy chuckle. "It's been a while since I last heard it."

"Nadir tells me it has barely been two weeks since we last saw each other." Erik brought up hesitantly. He did not want to remind Christine of the unfortunate event that had been their farewell.

"Yeah, that's what..." Christine stopped talking, and moaned loudly as she began to cry.

"Christine?" Erik asked worriedly. "Christine, talk to me. _Please_."

"Oh Erik, I'm so _tired_, everyone keeps tellings me things, and... and... things just keep falling apart. Please, please promise me you won't leave. Please say you'll be there."

"I promise. I will be right here, waiting for you."

"Thank you." Christine cried.

Erik closed his eyes as he listened to Christine's shuddering breaths, each little noise that escaped her lips like music to his ears. How blessed he was to have her. Erik could have listened to her breathing for years. It was splendid, Erik thought he would never hear her voice again, he thought he would be doomed to live the rest of his unhappy life without her, and yet she was begging him to stay. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much that he needed to hear, but he would wait if he had to. Just another few seconds of listening to her breathe, so that he knew for sure she was alright.

"Erik?" It was Nadir, to Erik's unfortunate surprise.

"Nadir, where's Christine?" Erik asked, lifting himself off of the stairs.

"She needs sleep, Erik. I am not letting you keep her up anymore, not in her condition. I take it then that I'm putting her on a plane back to London?"

"Yes, yes, if you wouldn't mind." Erik answered distractedly. "Make sure she stays warm, give her plenty of water and food."

"Yes, Erik." Nadir answered dutifully, a little more sober now. "But it's her emotional state, not her physical state that I'm concerned about."

"Christine does seem..." Erik bit his lip. "Do you think she has suffered greatly?"

"I do not know about greatly, but I know she has suffered something." Nadir answered.

"Hmm..." Erik stared at his shoes, considering the new information. "Have you told her anything about Carlotta?"

"No, but she knows that the problem has been sorted."

"Has she asked about anything else?"

"No, but I found her speaking with Meg when I left her alone for a few minutes."

"Damn." Erik swore, clenching his hands into fists. "What did that stupid girl tell her?"

"I don't know. All I know, is that Christine was crying, and Meg was holding her hand."

"Dammit Nadir. Why did you leave her side even for a second?"

"_Because_... I was drunk and Antoinette said she'd bring coffee." Nadir argued, his temper giving in. "And I don't think that's a fair observation coming from you!"

Erik sighed, running a hand over the mask. "You're right, I'm sorry. But please, try and find out what that girl told her. I feel like as though there are too many conversations going on above my head and I get the distinct feeling that there's still at least something that we don't know about."

Nadir laughed. "Funny, I was going to say the same thing."

* * *

**I've decided to upload it once every two days. Thank you so much for your input and your support!**

**Thank you all for your reviews! 3**


	72. Chapter 72

**Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars"**

_We'll do it all_  
_Everything_  
_On our own_

_We don't need_  
_Anything_  
_Or anyone_

_If I lay here_  
_If I just lay here_  
_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

_I don't quite know_  
_How to say_  
_How I feel_

_Those three words_  
_Are said too much_  
_They're not enough_

_If I lay here_  
_If I just lay here_  
_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

* * *

Christine wasn't sure how long she had been in Ms. Giry's office, but she knew that every time she closed her eyes, she would open them to find something had changed. Christine had a hard time focusing on anything, and even Nadir's words had drifted over her head when he tried to explain something about Carlotta, but he had given up after she must have dozed off several times, only awakening when her leg jerked, or her head dropped suddenly. Christine had closed her eyes at one point, her face turned towards Nadir as he sat opposite her, but then she had opened them to find that Nadir had left, and Ms. Giry had been standing over her, holding a steaming cup of coffee. Christine had sat up, bleary eyed as she felt far worse than before, and held onto the coffee that was passed to her as her eyelids began to droop again. She opened them again to find that the coffee had been taken out of her hands, that she was alone, and she was curled up in Ms. Giry's chair like a kitten, with a coat draped over her body to keep her warm. Christine remembered smiling, before reaching out to drink some of the coffee that had now turned cold. Christine tried to fall back asleep, but her brain just wouldn't shut down, and Christine was left to stare about the room, wearily as she sniffed, rubbing her nose. She was drained, every last bit of energy was slowly slipping away, and Christine felt so warm, but that could easily have because she was in New York. Christine had forgotten how warm the weather could be, even in an air conditioned building.

Christine still couldn't believe that Erik was in London. It seemed so preposterous, that the two of them had simultaneously jumped on a plane to fly across the North Atlantic ocean to see each other, completely missing each other. It was hard to believe that it was fate, or destiny, but Christine was too tired to even argue, pulling the thick women's coat over her head as she tried to block out any light. She was glad though, that Erik had left for her, and she couldn't help but think of how she had been worried before that Erik would never board a plane to come visit her in London. Christine was comforted by the fact that he had crossed an entire ocean for her, and as silly as it sounded in her head, it made her feel special. Christine felt foolish for leaving London, despite the fact that it had been to find Erik and save him from Carlotta, which also sounded strange in her head. Christine wished she hadn't left quite so eagerly, but Christine just couldn't bear to stand in the same space where she and Raoul had argued. Christine desperately wanted him to understand that Erik was the love of her life, that she could never betray him, and that Christine could not betray her own feelings. She could have easily lied to Raoul, but it wouldn't have helped anyone, and it would have only made things worse as time went by. Christine wished she could speak to him once more, just to show how sorry she was that she had hurt him, to try and clear the air, to tell him that she still loved him and that she would always be his friend, but Christine wasn't sure if Raoul would even speak to her now. How would Raoul react if he found out that she had left for New York to find Erik? He would be angry, wouldn't he? He would think that she had abandoned him, that she had left and was never to return, and he would hate her.

Christine groaned, feeling ready to weep as she turned about in the large padded chair, tucking her knees to her chest as she wished she just could see Erik. Erik would have been able to make her feel better, his arms around her body, his voice in her ear, she missed it all so much, and Christine consoled herself with the thought that Nadir was still trying to get through to him. Nadir had promised her, before leaving, that he would continue to text and call Erik until he picked up, but Christine was sure that he wouldn't let her speak to Erik if she was asleep, and so she was left struggling to stay awake. She tried pinching herself, getting up to walk around, listening to her music, but none of it was helping, and it only made her more tired.

Christine wasn't sure if she fell asleep again, her mind was unusually blank and vague, and any thoughts that crossed her mind seemed distant, but she found herself staring directly into the concerned face of Meg Giry, and Christine jumped out of shock. Meg jumped also, clearly not expecting that reaction, and stood upright, as she had been leaning forward to get a better look at Christine's face.

"Christ! Are you alright?" Meg asked, leaning once more more as Christine's head rolled back against her chair. "I thought you were awake, you had your eyes open and everything, I thought you were just staring off into space or something."

Meg carefully took Christine's shoulder, and shook it when Christine didn't respond immediately.

"Meg..." Christine murmured, lifting her hands to rub her face.

"Christine, I didn't think... I couldn't believe it when my mom said you were here, I thought she was joking. I waited for Mr Kahn to leave, so we could talk alone." Meg narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips."Christine, I... We need to talk."

"Oh, not you too." Christine moaned, laughing dully.

Meg pulled one of the chairs that sat before her mother's desk, which had Nadir's jacket pulled over it messily, and pulled it around the table, so Meg could sit closer to her. "It's important."

"I don't doubt it." Christine said while smiling, propping her head up on her hand as she rested her elbow on the chair's armrest.

"I did a bad thing." Meg said, sitting down. "But I have to tell you, because it's the right thing to do."

Christine frowned. Meg was acting very strange. Surely whatever it was, it must have been bad, as Meg was now watching her intently, struggling to talk as she opened her mouth several times to say something, but then thought against it.

"What's happened? Is everything okay?" Christine asked, blinking. Meg wasn't going to confess to murder, was she? From the way that Meg was panicking, Christine wouldn't have doubted it. It was a silly thought, but Christine began to seriously consider it when Meg groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Christine, I'm... I'm so _sorry_." Meg stammered. "I helped break you and Mr. Destler up!"

Christine sighed, closing her eyes, smiling. "Meg-"

"I didn't mean to! Carlotta came around to the hotel, it was before you and I met, and she just walked straight over to me, and I couldn't believe it. Carlotta Giudicelli wanted to talk to _me_, and then she kept touching me and flirting, and we got a few drinks after I finished work, and then we went back to her place and things from there just slipped out of control. I didn't know that she was planning anything, I thought she was just curious about you. She asked me to keep an eye on you, just watch out for you, and she said that she was a huge fan of your videos. I went along with it cos I was just really happy, but then I tried to back out cos I didn't understand why she wanted to know everything about you, but I told her that I didn't feel comfortable with carryin' on cos I really started to like you. You were so nice and polite, and I tried to tell Carlotta that I wasn't going to do it anymore, but then she had these videos of us together, and she said all these horrible things about posting it online, and I... I..."

"Meg..." Christine interrupted, sensing a break in Meg's rapid one sided conversation as she smiled. "It's okay."

Meg glanced up cautiously. "No, it's not-"

"It is, Meg. I'm not angry at you." Christine murmured, rubbing her cheeks. "I'm too tired to be angry."

"I'm sorry, Christine, I'm really sorry."

"It's _okay_. I believe you when you say that you didn't want to do it."

"But-"

"Meg? You've said you're sorry, Carlotta is no longer a problem, me and Erik are getting back together, what else is there to say? It's over now, it's in the past. I'm just glad that you told me."

"But there's more." Meg continued. "Carlotta said that she needed me for something else. That she wanted me to pass on the video she had of Mr. Destler if anything happened to her, or she'd release the video of me and her. I'm the reason why Mr. Destler sent you away."

"Video?" Christine asked curiously. "Carlotta had a video of Erik?"

Meg's face paled as she closed her eyes. "Shit..."

"Meg, it's okay, don't worry about it. I'm not gonna ask about it." Christine said, feeling a little more awake. "Seriously though, don't worry about anything. Everything you did, you thought you had to, for your own reasons, and I can't honestly say that I wouldn't have done the same thing in your position. It could have happened to anyone. I promise I won't tell Erik, or Nadir, or your mum." Christine sighed, rubbing her nose as she sniffed.

Meg looked away, ashamed. "They already know."

Christine face twitched into a smile. "I'm guessing they weren't as forgiving?"

"No." Meg answered, looking up at Christine from under her lashes. "Mr. Destler was very angry."

Christine's ears perked up. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He was scary." Meg admitted. "But he was happy afterwards when he left."

Christine smiled. "That's good."

She sighed, as they sat in silence, and Meg went on to talk about Erik, and how he had given everyone raises, and some free champagne, and other gifts to his employees, and while Christine tried to follow along with Meg's story, her sudden inactivity was making her very sleepy again.

"You okay?" Meg asked.

Christine managed to make a noise to show that she was listening, and yawned, "Yeah, I'm just so sleepy. I think my sleep pattern is all screwed up. I have no idea what time it is right now, or even what day we're on."

"Oh, okay, hold on, my mom has something that should help."

Christine watched through her eyelashes as Meg reached over her to open a drawer on Christine's right, and after moving around some papers, pulled out a clear, yellow tub with a white cap, and opened it, tapping two pills into her palm before putting away the rest.

"Here, try these." Meg offered, holding out her hand. "My mom has these in case she needs to do some overtime."

"No," Christine moaned, hiding her face. "It won't work. I'm too tired, and I need sleep, not pills."

"It's okay, they're safe to take." Meg placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mr. Destler made them for my mom. She says she always gets loads of work done when she's on them, but she says she can't take them too often, but I think that's only cos she's worried that it'll be bad for her heart for something."

"Erik made them?" Christine murmured, opening her eyes slowly to look at Meg.

"Yeah. That's what she told me, anyway."

Meg smiled as she took Christine's hand, and placed the pills in her open palm, before curling her fingers over them so that she wouldn't drop them.

"I can get you some fresh coffee, if you want, to take the pills with?" Meg asked, looking down at the ice cold coffee that Christine had left unfinished.

"Sure." Christine mumbled, closing her eyes again.

Christine opened her eyes a second later to find Meg was no longer in the room, and she uncurled her stiff fingers to stare at the pills. They so small, like two white little stars, and Christine chuckled as she closed her eyes again. They honestly couldn't have been made by Erik, but she did recall Nadir saying that Erik had many talents, including being an illusionist, and a ventriloquist, but when Nadir had said inventor, Christine had assumed that he had meant that Erik tinkered with a few ideas or something, not that Erik was capable of creating medicine. Christine wondered just how Erik managed to find the time to support all of his hobbies, but she remembered that Erik rarely slept, and suddenly, Christine felt very idiotic compared to him. Erik was a genius, a man who could have had the world kneeling at his feet, and instead he hid his talents away from them. Christine tried to remember the last time she had done anything quite as impressive as him, and failed as she struggled to form coherent thoughts. She opened her eyes slightly as the door opened to reveal Meg's tense face as she entered the room once more, bringing in her coffee, and a little silver pot.

"I hope this is okay. I dunno how many sugars you take with it, so I just brought it with me." Meg said nervously, placing down the sugar bowl as she reached into one of her uniform's pockets.

Christine nodded, slipping the pills onto her tongue, and took the coffee from Meg, smiling as she took a sip. It was bland, but drinkable, and she thanked Meg for her attention, leaning forward as she picked up the bowl and shook some sugar into her cup. Meg watched her, a perturbed look on her face as Christine sleepily shook some sugar onto the coat that covered her as well. Meg quickly took the bowl from her hands, and placed it down beside a spoon that Christine hadn't seen, and pulled the coat off of her, shaking it a few times, before draping it back over Christine.

"How long until they kick in?" Christine asked, sniffing before she took another sip.

"I dunno. Not long I guess, you're looking a little more awake, though, so that's good." Meg said, and watched her carefully.

"I'm not sure about that. Over the counter medicine had never worked for me before. I've tried taking Paracetamol and stuff, but I never feel any different."

"Paracetamol?" Meg asked, confused.

"It's a mild painkiller, like aspirin? You don't have Paracetamol here?"

"I think what you call Paracetamol, we call Tylenol."

"Well, yeah. I try that stuff, but I don't think it works on me." Christine mumbled. "So I hope Erik's stuff works. He really made it?"

"Yeah. My mom says that he's always doing stuff like this. She says it's cos he's trying to one-up everyone with stuff like this." Meg paused, and Christine took a sip of her coffee as she asked, "So, you really not angry at me?"

"No, Meg." Christine answered. "What's done is done. I'm sorry that Carlotta played you like that, though. She's kind of a creep, isn't she?"

"Tell me about it," Meg laughed, relieved as she ran a hand over her blond hair. "You should have heard her talk about the two of you. She was really obsessed."

"Oh? What kind of things did she say?" Christine asked, closing her eyes.

"Just stuff about fulfilling some plan, something about revenge. She was really crazy, and she kept making phone calls to all these different people, making them do favors for her, just anything so she could find out more about you. She had this little book where she kept everyone's name and number, everyone that she had wrapped around her finger, and she showed it to me once, to show me my name."

"That's horrible." Christine said, opening her eyes gradually.

"Yeah. It was pretty awful. I mean, one moment she was this wonderful, happy person, and then she became this whole different person cos of Mr. Destler, and he was all she could talk about, all she could think about, and I was just so let down, cos for one night I thought that maybe she was interested in me, and I would have been happy even if she never called me again after that night, but... Christine? Are you okay?"

Christine was cringing, turning her face away from Meg as she began coughing, and pulled the coat from around her, letting it drop to the floor, as she felt her skin start to flush, covering her mouth as she began to cough. Meg couldn't have known that her words were eerily similar to what Christine was experiencing now, or rather, what Raoul must have been experiencing.

"Christine, what's the matter?" Meg asked. "Christine?"

"I've just... I've really messed up myself." Christine cried. "Do you... Do you remember me telling you about my best friend back in London?"

"Ummm..." Meg scrunched her face up in thought. "I think so."

"My friend, Raoul?" Christine hinted, and Meg nodded.

"Oh yeah, the guy who gets you coffee, right?"

"Tea, but yeah, him. He... did something."

Meg narrowed her eyes as she looked up and down Christine's crumpled body.

"Nothing like that!" Christine cried, horrified. "He... he _kissed_ me."

Meg relaxed in her seat. "Christine, I don't think that's something to be too worried about-"

"He told me he loved me." Christine covered her lips with her fingers. "He told me that he's been in love with me for years, ever since we met."

Meg's eyes widened. "Woah, he said that?"

"Yes." Christine sucked on her lips. "I had no idea that he..."

"I hope you socked him one." Meg said, frowning. "I mean, he must have known that you were dating Mr. Destler."

"I wasn't when he kissed me, Meg. I was so horrible to him, I told him I didn't love him, that I loved Erik, but Raoul wants me to stay away from him. I thought it was because he thought Erik was dangerous, but now I don't know whether it's because he genuinely thinks that or whether his feelings got in the way, and I'm so confused, and tired, and I just want to fall into a deep sleep and just forget everything. I love him, I do, Raoul has always held a place in my heart, but he tried to use my father against me, and... And... He kept insisting, he kept trying to make it sound as though we were always meant to be together, but I know we weren't. We tried it once, and it just didn't work. And Raoul made it sound as though he knew better, as though he was just waiting for me to give in, but I don't understand how any of it can happen. We were so happy before, and now everything's ruined, and Erik doesn't know, and I have to tell him, but what if he thinks the worst of me? What if when I tell him he doesn't understand? What if the words come out wrong, and I ruin everything? And if Erik does understand, what then? Then I'll have Erik back, but I'll have lost Raoul, and Raoul has always been there for me, through everything. Raoul and I were inseparable, but he left me. He left, and I left as well. I left Raoul behind in London, and I don't think he'll ever want to speak to me again."

Christine began wiping her face, rubbing away the slick tears that fell from her eyes. "And then... And then there's Erik, again. Erik, he... he hurt me so much when he put me on that plane. He took away my right to choose for myself. He didn't let me in, he turned me away, and I don't know if I can trust him not to do it again. He said he would never hurt me, he said he would never leave me, but he didn't even let me say goodbye."

Meg's eyes softened as Christine began to cry, and reached out to take her hand. "Christine, Mr. Destler loves you. He will understand, he might not be happy about it, but he won't blame you or anything. It wasn't your choice, you didn't let Raoul kiss you, and Mr. Destler will see that. He was keeping you away from Carlotta, he was protecting you. And Raoul, he shouldn't have kissed you. It was the wrong approach. He was very brave to admit those feelings for you, but he did it the wrong way, and he has to understand that you don't feel the same way. And if he doesn't get that, then he's not the sort of person you want to hang around with."

"But Meg, I hurt him so much. He has loved me for a long time, and for him to hear that I don't love him back, it must have soul crushing. That's how I'd feel if Erik told me he didn't love me. I wish... I wish he _hadn't_ told me. I wish he had never kissed me!" Christine broke down, sniffling as she began to cry.

"Then let him hurt for a while. He'll come around, I promise you. He won't stay away from you forever. You're his friend too, and I'm sure he misses you just as much as you miss him. So let him go lick his wounds for a while. Things will work out, I know it will."

"How can it? How can I keep both of the most important men in my life? They hate each other, and they haven't even met in person! What am I going to do?"

"I can't answer that for you." Meg sighed, squeezing Christine's hand. "I'm not very good at this sort of thin-"

There was a loud bang, followed by a louder groan, and both Christine and Meg jumped at the sound. Christine peered over Meg's shoulder as they turned to look over to the door, and they both watched as Nadir stumbled into the room suddenly. The door he had stepped through must have swung open with such force, that it had slammed straight into the grey filing cabinets behind it, and Nadir's eyes had locked immediately on Christine's face, before he noticed Meg.

"Meg." Nadir groaned, holding his head in one hand, the other hand gripping the doorframe tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I wanted to speak with Christine."

"You can save the chatting for later, Christine needs her sleep." Nadir said, in none too happy a tone, and he groaned again, looking around Ms. Giry's desk for something, his eyes landing on his jacket, which was draped over the back of the chair that Meg had been sitting in. "Go on, your mother is looking for you."

Meg bashfully nodded, releasing Christine hand. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Christine held her arms out, and they wavered for a moment in the air. "Will do."

Meg watched her for a second, then hugged Christine carefully before she left. Christine blinked a few times, her eyelids twitching, and she stared at Nadir.

"Any word from Erik?" She asked.

"No, not yet." Nadir replied, watching her attentively. "Are you alright? Your cheeks look a little rosy."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Christine replied, feelings her cheeks. They were a little warmer than they should have been, but nothing to get too concerned over.

"Then go to sleep, Christine. I'll wake you when I get through to him."

Christine nodded, though she knew it was pointless to try and sleep now. She was definitely awake, but her body was still so exhausted, and her eyes naturally closed of their own accord. Her mind was buzzing with a thousand different thoughts, and Christine mentally felt a lot better, but physically, it was like someone had left a bunch of weights to rest on her bones. Christine couldn't understand it. She felt like any more movement from her, and her limbs could fall off. Nadir picked up the coat that Christine had dropped, and covered her with it again, and Christine smiled, though it felt as though she was being submerged in fire. Nadir stood over her for a few minutes, tapping into his phone. Christine enjoyed the silence for a moment, talking to Meg had surprisingly taken a lot of energy out of her. Nadir soon left, grabbing his jacket, and pulled out his phone again, dialling Erik's number. Christine opened her eyes to watch him leave, and closed them again.

The next time she opened them, she felt as though hours had just rolled by, but she was fairly certain that only a few minutes had past. Some loud banging had woken Christine from the blank, buzzing state that she had been in, and she had clambered out of her chair, her joints starting to hurt as she took a moment to stretch her body. She licked her lips as she listened to several more thuds that sounded as though they were coming from the haasked turned to ask her if he had woken her, and Christine was about to reply that she wasn't even sure if she had been asleep, when Nadir had turned back to his phone, and told Erik to wait.

Christine's chest started to throb, and her whole body began to loosen up, as though she had been shot with a tranquilizer dart, and she asked for the phone, holding her hand out. Nadir gave it to her reluctantly, and Christine had held the phone to her ear with both hands, digging it into the side of her head as she listened for his voice. It spoke out, clear as a whistle, and Christine had been so relieved to hear it, that she rested her fatigued body against the wall. It was so good to hear him, so unbelievably good, and Christine could have cried. She felt so vulnerable, her heart exposed to the entire world, and it was a scary feeling, to think that he had so much control over her emotions. She loved him so dearly, but it was madness, it was so consuming, it threatened to swallow her up, to drown her in the chemicals that coursed through her brain now. Christine sank to her feet, her back against the wall as Erik tried to tell her the words she had been waiting to hear from him, but to hear them over the phone, it wasn't the way she wanted it. Christine wanted to be looking up at him, holding his hand when she said those words, and to say them over the phone, before they had discussed anything else, felt wrong. There were things that Christine had to admit to, and Erik still had to explain himself, and while Christine felt it might have been safer to have that conversation on the phone, she didn't want their reunion to be so troublesome. Christine had stopped him, trying to explain how she was feeling, just what she was thinking, but she was struggling to stay conscious. She had fallen onto her side at one point, Erik sounding very worried as he spoke her name once more, and she had lain on the floor, closing her eyes as they carried on talking. Christine had no idea what she was saying, but she made a point to tell Erik to stay where he was. If Erik was going to try and fly back to New York to be with her, then Christine honestly couldn't say how long she would be staying in New York, and she needed to see Raoul, even if it was for the last time.

There had been some point where they had both stopped talking, and Christine chose not to say anything, partially because of how tired she was, but also because it was so nice to just listen to Erik's breathing. It was a stupid thought, but it comforted her. After that, Christine wasn't quite sure what had happened. She remembered Nadir had removed the phone from her hands, as she lay on the floor, and she remembered him telling her that he was taking her to the airport, but everything else had been a blur. Christine remembered Nadir hugging her, and she remembered walking up some steps, holding onto a railing, and she was vaguely aware that she was on a plane once more, but her mind was a fuzzy warm blur. She had collapsed into the nearest seat, her body sinking into the seat, and Christine wanted to sleep, she would have welcomed the opportunity, but the pills refused to let her, and Christine tossed and turned in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but no matter what position she lay in, it was useless. She felt awake, but very sleepy, and there were no words to describe how much it annoyed and confused her. She wondered if she was crashing, like after a sugar rush, and she had clumsily asked a blur for a coffee, but even that hadn't helped.

Arriving in London, she had found Mr. Hollis calling for her, his voice echoing around the hanger, and Christine had awkwardly stumbled towards him. He caught her, and helped her into the car, sounding very confused as he asked her something out of concern. She wasn't sure if she had nodded, but she tried to, and laid herself across the seats as he shut the door behind her. He had to help her out of the car as well, when they arrived at her apartment, and he even carried her suitcase up the stairs as she staggered on ahead of him. She thanked him, though she wasn't sure if the words came out right, and she turned to face the front door, hoping that Erik was standing on the other side.

Christine held onto her front door doorknob for what felt like years, her fingers slipping over the shiny silver handle as she opened the door. She heard something move, something had moved to stand in front of her, and tried to ask her something, and Christine looked up, and smiled as a large white blur greeted her. It was Erik, he was really standing there, he had waited for her. Christine reached out weakly, and took his gloved hand, and managed to wobble over to her bedroom. He followed after her, asking her something, but Christine couldn't hear, as there was this endless droning in her head, it blocked out all rational thought, every sound, and Christine entered her bedroom, but stopped as Erik wouldn't follow her anymore. She looked up at him, begging him to understand that she needed sleep, and that all she wanted was to lie beside him, to hold onto a small piece of him, to prove he was there, before succumbing to the darkness that was coming for her. She pulled on his hand again, and he gave in, following her over to her bed. Christine managed to crash into it, wincing as she hit her shin against her bedpost, and dropped onto the bed, tugging on Erik's hand to show him that she wanted him there as well. He climbed on, after a few seconds, and laid himself down as far away as he could manage, still holding onto her hand. Christine grabbed a fistful of something, some material, and held onto him, securing him to her as she tried to move closer towards him, blinking as she stared at the large, white, blurry mask, until she no longer saw it.

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! 3 ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**

**We're nowhere near the end yet, I still have lots and lots of chapters to write for this story, so don't worry, it's not ending quite so soon!**


	73. Chapter 73

**John Newman's ****"Love Me Again"**

_Know I've done wrong,_  
_I left your heart torn_  
_Is that what devils do?_  
_Took you so low,_  
_Where only fools go_  
_I shook the angel in you_

_Now I'm rising from the ground_  
_Rising up to you_  
_Filled with all the strength I found_  
_There's nothing I can't do!_

_I need to know now, know now_  
_Can you love me again? _  
_I need to know now, know now_  
_Can you love me again?_  
_I need to know now, know now_  
_Can you love me again?_  
_I need to know now, know now_  
_Can you love me again?_

_Can you love me again?_

_It's unforgivable,_  
_I stole and burnt your soul_  
_Is that what demons do?_  
_They rule the worst of me_  
_Destroy everything,_  
_They bring down angels like you_

* * *

Erik had no intention of getting Christine's landlord to let him into her apartment. When Erik had spoken with the man to secure Christine's rent, he had been a little disturbed at Erik's request, the irritating conversation beginning to unsettle Erik's already frayed mind, and Erik did not fancy having another repeat. The man would only gawk at him, and Erik would get to enjoy Christine's home far better if he was alone, so he climbed up the last remaining steps, reaching into his jacket to pull out one of the hairpins that he had collected from Christine's hotel room. He had made a point to bring with him the things he had stolen from her, which including her nail varnish and her lip gloss, hoping to casually place them somewhere without her notice, but it seemed there was no need to be so discreet now. Christine had given him permission to enter her home, to wait for her return, and Erik felt lucky indeed to be allowed into her abode. He would have a few hours to himself, to allow himself the pleasure of admiring her pretty things, even greeting her cat, and while Erik felt guilty of wanting to do such things, there was nothing that could stop him, there would be no-one watching him. He would be alone, in her apartment, and then he wouldn't be. Christine would walk through the door, probably a little tired from travelling, and he would be there, ready to give her whatever she wished.

Erik knelt before her door, bending the hair pin before sliding it into the lock. It took him a minute, as he found himself rather distracted by the thought of exploring Christine's home, but he managed the unlock the door, and slowly, he opened it. Erik partially knew what to expect, most of the videos that Christine had shot inside in her apartment had only shown a small part of her living room, and it was the same view in every video, so standing in her apartment for himself was eye opening. Erik took a few cautious steps in, and shut the door behind him, pausing to look around the surprisingly small apartment. Despite Christine's attempts at making it a cheery place, the condition of the apartment itself was disgraceful. Whoever had drawn up the plans had done a poor job, but the construction itself was shoddy, and Erik curled his lip as he noted several architectural flaws. He ignored them, and took a deep breath as he admired Christine's home.

It was beautifully bright, and completely chaotic. There were so many things to look at, so many little details that Erik hadn't picked up on in her videos. There was a wall, on his left, partially hidden by large wooden cabinets which held DVDs, CDs and books, and even they were hidden behind photo frames, little knick knacks, decorations and tiny little toys. There was a small TV between the two cabinets, resting on top of a stand, and on the wall above it were shelves, filled with the gifts that her followers had sent her. At the other end of the room, joined to the wall on his left, was a door, slightly open, which he knew would lead to Christine's bedroom. The door was facing away from him, so he couldn't see into the room, and Erik respectfully chose not to approach it. If her home was sacred, then her bedroom was doubly so. He would never step foot in that room, it would have been disgraceful to even consider it, and sinful to actually do it.

Ahead of him, were two large windows, where Erik could see out into the back alley that ran behind her house, and every inch of the window sill was taken over by a parade of plants and flowers. There were plants everywhere, in fact. They were all over the computer desk that sat in the other corner of the room, which was already messy with notepads, pencils, bits of rubbish and empty mugs, all surrounding a very old looking computer and a printer. Beside the desk was a sofa, that was facing the TV on the opposite wall, and it too was decorated with pillows and blankets. In the middle of the room was a large wooden coffee table, which was littered with more cups, books and other little curiosities, as well as one or two plastic shopping bags, which on closer inspection, seemed to be filled with junk food, alcohol and tissues. Erik winced. Christine was not a heavy drinker, as far as he was aware. She had refused the champagne in Tiffanys, and she had been polite at Tori Mayner's party, accepting the occasional drink, so he had supposed that Christine, while enjoying the occasional drink, did not drink in excess. Erik had been the cause of her recent purchases, he realized, and he looked away, over towards the kitchen on his right, and wondered just what had happened while they had not been together. Had Christine been depressed enough to drink? Erik had been depressed enough to consider taking his morphine, but Christine, surely she wouldn't have been as upset as he had?

_Christine, I am sorry. Forgive me. I did not think... I had hoped that you would be happy, though it damn near killed me to do so. I didn't think you would suffer. I thought you would be happy. I thought wrong. I will never leave you again, I will never let you cry._ Erik thought, closing his eyes._ I will fix this, I swear. _

Erik took a deep breath. He should never have let Christine go. He had hurt them both, and in ways that might never be mended, but Erik would try with all of his might. Erik recalled Nadir's words to him, of how Christine had tried to confess her love for him, and Erik clenched his fists in anger. He had been the one to interrupt her, to send her away, acting like a monster the whole time, and now Christine was bruised. On the phone, she had sounded so defeated, so very tired, and even Nadir had been worried. Erik had not liked the sound of his friend's uneasy voice, and Christine's voice only reminded him of why he should never even be let near other people, but Erik had promised Christine that he would not leave, and so, he would not.

There was a soft meow, coming from the kitchen, and Erik opened his eyes to see the long haired tabby that Christine called 'Paul'. It was watching him, sitting on the kitchen counter, beside the sink, and it did not look pleased to see him. Erik watched it as well, his eyes following the cat's tail as it flicked about, and he slowly approached it, entering the yellow kitchen. Erik stood before the counter, and noticed that the automatic cat food dispenser Paul was sitting in front of was empty. That was probably the reason why the cat looked ready to attack him, the poor thing must have been hungry. Erik looked around, but he couldn't see anything that even remotely suggested cat food, and began looking through the cupboards. He found a few tins of tuna, and in an oddly domestic mood, he popped open the can, tipping the tuna flakes onto a small, purple plate that had been drying on the sink, and placed it before the cat.

Erik, pleased with himself, began looking around the kitchen. It was as disorganized as the living room, and it was all so overwhelming to look at. None of her cutlery or her other kitchenware matched, the fridge was covered in magnets and glossy photos, and the cupboards were filled with an assortment of products that he couldn't place. It was all so strange to look at, but Erik enjoyed every second of it, until he looked at Paul once more. It was still watching him, with narrowed eyes as Erik closed the fridge door. He had been inspecting all of the homemade leftovers that Christine had stored on plates, covered with clingfilm, but now his attention was drawn to the tuna he had given her cat. It seemed Paul had not eaten any, and Erik wondered why it wasn't eating. He stuck his hand out, to try and stroke the creature, but it hissed at him, batting its paw at his gloved hand. Erik snatched it away, insulted by the creature. He had never had this kind of problem before with any animals. In Iran, tigers used to curl themselves around his feet, lions would run to greet him with their huge paws, and even the wild animals of the forests that he had explored in his youth had been interested in him, but this cat was reluctant to even let him scratch it behind its ears. Erik, confused, tried to reach out for it again, but before his hand had even moved an inch, the cat began to growl, a deep rumbling coming from its puffy chest warning him away. Erik had been startled, but he was not about to give up. He threw his voice, singing softly to it in its ear to try and calm it, but the cat decided to jump off of the counter, ignoring him completely as it left the room. Erik felt the bottom of his jaw hit the inside of his mask, and he followed after it, stunned. Had this simple little housecat actually brushed him off? Erik watched as it jumped onto the sofa, moving to sit at the other end, towards the windows, and began to groom itself, licking its paw. Erik sat himself down, and watched it. There was something odd about this cat, he thought, as his singing had no effect on it, and it seemed to have an air of smugness about it as it sat with its back to him.

Erik was curious about the feline, but the cat was pretending to ignore him, and Erik couldn't figure out why he couldn't charm the furry little creature. He wondered if the mask was setting it on edge, as it spied on him from over it's shoulder, and slowly, he reached under the mask to press the release button, and the mask split in two. Erik placed the two halves on the sofa, and leaned forward, curious to see what kind of reaction his face would cause. Animals had never paid much attention to it, they were only animals after all, they did not care what he looked like. It was one of many reasons that Erik preferred them to humans, but this cat was not at all behaving the way he had expected it to. Paul looked over his shoulder, its eyes tracing the features on his face, and watched him. It didn't move, but it's eyes widened, and Erik had grunted, annoyed. This cat was very strange indeed, and Erik wasn't sure if he liked it. It seemed a very disagreeable creature, and Erik couldn't understand why Christine was so fond of it. In her videos, it was the sweetest of things, occasionally walking in front of the camera, headbutting her hands for attention, and Erik had been so jealous of the creature. Christine had always smiled at it, cooing at it as she kissed the top of its head, talking to it as though it would respond back at her, and Erik had been looking forward to meeting the tabby, but now he wasn't sure if he even wanted to stay in the same room as it. Paul apparently had the same thought, as when Erik had started to put his mask back on, it jumped down, walking forward a few steps before peering round at him. Erik paused, keeping an eye on the long haired cat as it shot him a self-satisfied glare, and then proceeded to enter Christine's bedroom. It was almost as if it knew that Erik could not go in there.

"Why you... You _devious_ little thing." Erik complained, standing up to follow after it, but he stopped before Christine's door. "I was being perfectly _civil_!"

Erik took a deep breath, and went back to sit on the couch. If _Paul_ didn't want to associate with him, then that was fine by Erik, but what would Christine think of he couldn't even get on with a stupid animal? Erik groaned, and held his mask face in his hands. Christine wouldn't make him leave if he failed to get on with her pet, would she? She wouldn't choose the creature over him, would she? Erik lifted his head and sighed again. Of course she wouldn't, Erik could get her plenty of cats if that was what she wanted, but there was only one Erik, and Christine loved her Erik. She _did_. Didn't she?

Christine had sounded so unsure on the phone, she hadn't let him tell her that he loved her, and it made Erik very nervous. She had said that she wanted to wait until she was standing in front of him, but what if that wasn't the reason why she had stopped him? What if she _had_ changed her mind? It was torture, just sitting and waiting for her, and it would be a few hours before she landed in London. A few hours of waiting in agony to see her. Hearing her voice had not been a good idea, it made him impatient, and like a child, he was greedy and wanted more. It was as though someone had given him a bite of chocolate, and now he wanted the rest of the bar.

Erik looked around him, trying to console himself with looking at Christine's belongings, rubbing his hands together. It was all very interesting to look at, and it was such a vast difference from his own home. Here, there were bright colours, thousands of curios and novelties for him to marvel at, but his home had been grey and lifeless, and Erik infinitely preferred her home to his. Erik was glad that Christine had asked him to stay, it had proved to be entertaining at least, and Erik's eyes landed on two suitcases that were waiting beside the front door, next to a door that led into Christine's bathroom. Erik flexed his fingers, staring at them. The smaller suitcase was missing, Christine had to have taken it with her to New York, but it didn't explain why she had not put the other two away. Erik got off of the couch, and went to take a closer look. He picked up the one he had given her easily enough, but he could tell that she had not unpacked it, and it was the same for the other one. Why had Christine not unpacked them? Erik looked around the rest of the apartment in bewilderment. What had been going through Christine's mind? Had she refused to unpack them because of the associated feelings, or because _he_ had packed them, or what it just that she hadn't gotten around to it? Erik stood and thought for a moment, until another thought occurred to him, one that made him groan audibly. He cursed as he realized he had not even brought with him any clothes of his own, nothing to suggest that he was planning to stay for a while.

Erik returned to the couch despondently. The sooner Christine got home, the better. Erik wasn't sure if he could take any more uncertain thought running through his head, questions that he had no answer to, and Erik distracted himself by further examining Christine's belongings. He wasted the remaining hours by pouring through her book collection, running his hands over them like they were precious children. He looked at her CD collection, and was intrigued to see that there was a wide range of music, though it seemed as though they were all little outdated. Some of it he could not understand though. She had a few musical soundtracks, but then Erik had also found some heavy metal CDs, and Erik raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. Christine was a very unusual girl, but it was a lovely kind of unusual. The kind that allowed her to see the man in the monster. Erik continued on, fiddling with the little toys, cleaning away the dust on her shelves with his fingers clumsily. He picked up a Rubik's cube, and on seeing that Christine had not solved it, quickly matched the colors so that it was back to its starting position. Erik hoped that she wouldn't be upset that he had solved it for her, but Erik could easily return it back to the order he had found it in if she asked. He had been looking at a mug with a kangaroo jumping across it, a gift from one of her Australian followers, when he realized he had forgotten the most important thing of all. _Presents_.

"Damn." He placed the mug back on the shelf, running a hand over his mask. Wasn't it customary to bring the woman you admired a token of your affection? "_Damn_."

Was Christine expecting anything from him? He had come as he was, he had not brought anything for himself, let alone her, and Erik began to panic as he paced the room.

"I should... I should have brought her lullaby." He murmured to himself, pausing before her window.

Erik scratched his hands idly, feeling his face twitch as he wondered whether he would be able to get a hold of Christine's driver. He would have gone home, after dropping Christine off the airport, who would have called him the moment they knew that Christine was returning. Erik was reluctant to call him, he would not know what Christine liked, and it was doubtful that the man even had the money to give the amount of gifts that Erik needed to purchase for her. On the other hand, he was human, he did know more than Erik in terms of wooing women. Hell, any man knew more than him, and he could very easily just give him his card. Would Christine be angry though, if the gifts came from her driver, instead of him?

It was too late to think about it now, there was plenty of time to handle these sorts of affairs, and Erik returned to his simple litle duty. He watered her plants, pouring the water out of a little teacup he had found, and that proved to be very relaxing, despite having to crouch down before the window so no random onlookers saw him. He had moved into the kitchen, watering what plants he could find there, and he had even started cleaning the dirty plates that were sitting in the sink, drying them off as he put them away. It was strangely appealing, doing these little chores for Christine. He wondered if she would notice. Would she thank him? His mother never had.

Erik held onto the counter forcefully, gritting his teeth. His mother had been a cruel woman, and Christine was _not_ cruel. She _would_ thank him. She would treat him as a human being should be treated, as though he actually was human, and Christine would be pleased to see that he had taken care of her home while she had been away, even if it was only for a few hours. She had said, after all, '_make yourself at home_'. Did that not mean doing housework and such? Erik took a few calming breaths, and finished his chores, before returning into her living room to sit on the sofa. He glanced at his phone. Christine most likely would still a few hours, but there was nothing else for him to do.

Erik sat impatiently on the sofa, tapping his fingers on his knees as he stared directly ahead of him. He could do this. He could wait for her. She was coming home, just as she said, so there was no need to do anything but wait. It was hard though, Erik didn't like sitting around waiting for her. He almost wished that Paul would come back out of Chrisitne's room, just so that something interesting would happen, but Erik wasn't going to force the hissing beast to endure his company. That would mean entering Christine's room, and he wasn't going to be tempted just because he was lonely. So he waited.

It was some time had passed before he heard movement coming from downstairs. Erik froze, breathing deeply as his skin began to tingle, and he listened as two pairs of footsteps began to climb the stairs. Erik's hands began to shake, and he nervously began to smooth out his clothes. They were wrinkled now, and they were no longer fresh. Would she mind? Carlotta had said that it smelled as though something had died, but Erik couldn't smell anything. He began adjusting his mask, but his hands sprang away as the handle on her front door moved slightly, and Erik knew she was on the other side, about to walk through.

When she did open the door, Erik had let out a breath he hadn't even known he had been holding, but gasped as she staggered in. Erik was alarmed to see her. Christine looked so different, her eyes were practically closed, and red, and she didn't seem to be very aware of her surroundings as she stumbled further into the room, sniffing. She was wearing a black t-shirt, with some band on the front that he recognized from one of her CDs to be a heavy metal band, a maroon jacket and jeans. Her hair was all over the place, falling into her face, which looked so pale, but flushed at the same time, and she was incredibly shiny. Erik looked up to see her driver, Mr. Hollis, behind her, watching her as well as he carried her suitcase under one arm, his other arm out in front of him, his hand barely touching her back, ready to catch her in case she fell to the floor. They looked at each other, and Erik could see that he was worried as well.

Erik immediately got up from his seat, and went to stand before Christine, lowering his head so he could look into her eyes. They were glazed over, and Erik could see that she was sweating profusely. Her hair was sticky, and her clothes were soaked. Erik felt his heart stop. This was not how he wanted to greet Christine. Something was terribly wrong, and it was not jet lag.

"Christine?" Erik asked softly.

She looked up, though that seemed to take forever, and her eyes lifted to look at him, but they didn't focus on him. She smiled, if it could be called a smile. It was not one of her typical smiles, not one of the ones that Erik loved dearly. It was more like the corners of her mouth had lifted, and Christine struggled to keep her eyes open as she did so. Christine's breathing sounded very harsh, and she was looking more and more likely to faint. Erik had been about to call her name again, hoping to create some kind of response from her, but she reached out before he could open his mouth and took his hand, her fingers fumbling with his as they struggled to curl around them, and slowly, she started to walk away, still holding onto him. She was moving very slowly, and Erik looked up at Mr. Hollis, ready to question him on Christine's current state, but the door was already closed, and Erik was alone with Christine at last.

Erik turned back to look at Christine. "Christine, what's going on?"

She was leading him towards her bedroom, holding onto two of his fingers weakly, and Erik noticed how slick they felt. Something was definitely wrong, she was not acting herself at all, and Erik felt shivers run down his spine the closer they got to Chrisitne's open door. What had happened to her, why was she acting this way? Christine entered her room, trying to pull him in, but Erik stopped her. He had no idea what she wanted, but entering her bedroom while she was in such a subdued state was not a good idea. Christine stopped, wavering on her feet as she turned to look at him, and it was as though she was directly pleading him to join her, as though she knew what she was doing. It was painful for Erik to look at her, she seemed very much in pain, and Erik wnated to give her whatever she wanted, but he wasn't sure if she knew what she was asking of him.

_This is wrong, so very wrong._ Erik thought miserably, his eyes darting about her bedroom, before returning to her face.

Christine's eyes fluttered, and she closed them for a moment, sighing before she opened them again, and then tugged gently on his fingers, drawing him in. Erik glanced around her bedroom, and spied Paul sitting on her dressing table, which was covered in fairy lights, watching him with a disapproving glare. He turned back to Christine, and smiled smugly, squeezing Christine's fingers as she led him over to her bed. It was just a shame that the cat couldn't see him smirk. Christine carried on towards the king sized bed, and Christine swore under her breath as her leg hit the corner of the bed. She paused for a second, cringing, then dropped onto the bed unceremoniously. Erik watched her, his whole body burning as she tugged on his fingers again, her face in the sheets as she laid on her stomach, before rolling onto her side to bleakly stare up at him. Erik realized that she wanted him to join her on the bed.

_Christine, I want to help you, not hurt you. Don't you remember the last time we rested beside each other?_

Christine moaned under her breath, blinking slowly as she sank into her sheets, and Erik crumbled as her eyes opened a little wider, allowing him to see her blue eyes. He climbed on, but he wasn't going to make the same mistake as last time, and made sure she was as far away from him as possible. If she was about to fall asleep, then it was for her own safety that he kept away from her. She was still holding onto his hand, and Erik fumbled as she began to slowly push her body over to his, though she gave up when she realized that she did not have the strength, and settled for grabbing a handful of his shirt, directly over his heart. Erik was sure that she would feel his chest thumping against her tiny little fist, his heart was beating terrifically in his ears as she watched her succumb to sleep, giving one last little sigh as she closed her eyes, with a smile on her face. A real smile. For _him_.

Erik waited a few minutes, unsure of himself as he traced every single feature of her face. She was beautiful, more beautiful than he remember, even in her exhausted state, but she was unusually rosy cheeked, and covered with sweat, and that distressed him. Her lips were dry, her breathing was very laboured. Erik needed to check her vitals, but it would mean touching her, and it would be without her permission or her awareness. He had to do it though, he needed to see if there was anything else that was noteworthy, and Erik carefully used the hand she was holding onto to hook his thumb under his free hand's glove, pulling it off as it tore at his skin, and placed his bruised fingertips against her neck, to measure her heart rate. He was shocked to feel how hot she was, and her heart rate was higher than it should have been. He removed his hand, embarrassed for touching her so intimately, but carried on with his inspection, placing the back of his cracked, peeling hand to her forehead. Christine reacted instantly to his cold hands, taking a deep breath, and Erik pulled his hand way, horrified. She was... She was...

_She's sick!_ Erik thought, frightened. _How is... Why is Christine sick?_

Erik opened her mouth, tilting her head so that he could see down her throat. It was very red, and swollen. She had been coughing then. He lifted one of her eyelids to take a closer look at her eye, and found it wasn't reacting to the sudden light as quickly as it should have. Erik pulled his hand away. Christine was out cold. If she was sick, then there had to be something he could do. Erik had only ever been sick once in his life, but that had been in Iran, and Nadir had been the one to nurse him back to health. Erik couldn't remember that time clearly, but he did remember that he too had been very hot and sleepy. He couldn't remember any of his other symptoms though, and it was difficult to know whether what Christine had was the same thing. It could have been the flu, or anything, and Erik knew it was nothing to get too worried about, but it _was_ worrying him. Erik didn't know if it was appropriate for him to tend to her needs. In Iran, Nadir had bathed him, fed him, changed his clothes and sheets, and that had all been fine, as they were both men, but Christine was a _woman_, and there was a vast difference. But there was no-one else, and Erik did not like the idea of getting a doctor to see her. They would prod their grubby little fingers all over her, and Christine would be uncomfortable. Erik... Erik would look after her.

"Don't worry, Christine, I will look after you. I will fix this. I'll... I'll fix you." Erik murmured, looking down at her clammy hand, as it clung to his fingers.

Erik didn't know how he was going to accomplish it, but looking into her peaceful face, he smiled, slowly lifting his hand to sweep aside the hair that had fallen into her eyes. It had been so very long since he had touched her, since he had breathed the same air as her, and Erik gave himself a moment to stare at her. He had been patient, he had waited for her, and he was allowed to look at her. He pulled her hands away from his burning chest mournfully, unhooking one finger that had slipped into the shirt's pocket, and easily slipped his fingers out of her hand. If he was going to fix Christine, then he needed the right tools, the right ingredients to ensure her comfort, and Erik could not do that while still lying on her bed. Erik removed himself from the bed, and stood over her, watching her as she slept. Erik could not take the time to take comfort in Christine's presence, not when that time should have been put towards her recovery. It was so very good to see her, though, as Erik felt as light as a feather as he pressed his hand to his chest. It was still thumping away, as loud as a drum, and it showed no signs of slowing down. His Christine, his love, was sleeping peacefully, and Erik finally had her all to himself. Erik would get to coddle her, to treat her like a princess. He would get to feed her by hand, and look after her, and he could touch her, and read to her, and talk with her, and Erik's mind began to buzz with all of the things he would get to do with his Christine.

Paul jumped from her dressing table onto her bed, bringing Erik of his daydreaming, and climbed over her legs like it was nothing, and carefully curled itself up before her stomach, watching Erik as it flicked its tail angrily around it's body. It was certainly an obnoxious, rude little thing, but if it brought Christine comfort, then he would allow its continued existance in her life. Erik sneered at the cat, who in return gave a subtle hiss at him, before he left Christine's bedroom, keeping his eyes averted from her private things. She may have allowed him in, but it did not mean that she was giving him permission to stay. As much as Christine was not his mother, he knew his mother had been right in some respects. Erik crossed her living room to enter her kitchen, looking around him as he began looking through the cupboards. It was not his laboratory, but it would have to do.

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! 3 ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**

**We're nowhere near the end yet, I still have lots and lots of chapters to write for this story, so don't worry, it's not ending quite so soon!**


	74. Chapter 74

_**Lauren Aquilina's "King"**_

_You're alone, _  
_You're on your own, _  
_So what, have you gone blind, _  
_Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?_

_Glass half empty, glass half full, _  
_Well either way you won't be going thirsty, _  
_Count your blessings not your flaws._

_You've got it all, _  
_You lost your mind in the sound, _  
_There's so much more, you can reclaim your crown, _  
_You're in control, _  
_Rid of the monsters inside your head, _  
_Put all your faults to bed, _  
_You can be King again._

_You don't get what all this is about, _  
_You're too wrapped up in your self-doubt, _  
_You've got that young light, set it free._

_You've got it all, _  
_You lost your mind in the sound, _  
_There's so much more, you can reclaim your crown, _  
_You're in control, _  
_Rid of the monsters inside your head, _  
_Put all your faults to bed, _  
_You can be King._

* * *

Christine felt very warm, hidden beneath the blankets, and whatever it was that was covering her forehead was soft and thick, though wet, and it slid about her as she began to stretch her arms, moaning as she twisted about. She sat up slowly, the blood rushing to her head as she did so, and she pressed one hand to her face as she opened her eyes, peeking through her fingers. Christine was surprised to discover that there had been a wet blanket lying on her forehead, which now had flopped into her lap, some strange gooey liquid smeared over her upper lip and a disgusting taste in her mouth which eased her throat. Christine was very confused, and blinked as she kicked her duvet away, sniffing, before groaning as she realized what was wrong. Christine felt very awake, but her joints were aching, her nose was blocked, her skin felt sensitive to the touch and her throat, while cooled, was still sore. Christine was sure that she was coming down with something, and she sighed, dropping back onto her bed, tired. She yawned, feeling the muscles against her ribs pull as she stretched once more, about to snuggle back into the blankets to go back to sleep, turning onto her side, when she realized that her bedmate was missing.

Christine sat up, coughing as she looked around. It amazed her to think that she had flown to New York and back again, hardly sleeping for the most of the journey, but she couldn't remember clearly the events of the last day or so. It all seemed so hazy, as though it had all been a dream, but one thing she had known for definite, Erik had been in her apartment, and she had coerced him onto her bed. Now she was alone, Erik was missing, and Christine just wanted to go back to her dream.

Christine had dreamt that she had been lying in a field. All she could see was a pink and yellow sky, with soft golden clouds rolling over her, and thousands of glittering diamonds hanging above her, as though they were meant to be stars. They glinted in the evening sky, occasionally catching her eye as they moved in the wind. She could hear someone sigh, and she had looked to her left, to find Erik lying beside her, holding her hand as he lay on his side, facing her. His mask had molded itself to his skin, as though it was his natural face, and couldn't be removed, and it blinked at her. It moved as though it was truly his face, and Christine had felt disappointment, especially when she tried to reach out and touch his lips. They were cold, lifeless, and the mask began to cry. She had pulled her hand away, feeling tears well up in her own eyes for hurting him, and the mask had turned angry, watching something over her shoulder as she turned to look. Raoul was lying on the other side of her, on his back as he stared up at the sky, his eyes open with wonder as he squeezed her other hand. He looked at her, smiling as she watched him, until he looked back up at the sky, and pointed to something. Christine followed his hand, looking up at the sky as well, and that had been when she had woken up. Christine had felt very curious and calm in her dream, but now she felt bewildered. What had her dream been trying to tell her?

Christine swung her legs out of the bed, stifling another cough as she tried to stand. Her legs were steady, though sore, but it didn't hurt her too much to stand. Her shin was kicking up a terrible fuss, and she lifted her jeans to find a large, oval bruise, that was yellow and purple, and stung whenever her muscles flexed. Christine couldn't recall how it had happened, and she left her room, looking around her for any sign of Erik as she entered her living room, hoping he had an answer. He wasn't there, but Christine could hear something coming from the kitchen, and went to investigate. She wiped her forehead, rubbing her sweaty hand on her already damp clothes as she slowly walked around her coffee table, and entered the kitchen. Erik was sitting before the sink, his feet perched on the foot rest on one of her stools as he sat atop it, hunched over as he swirled some golden coloured liquid in a wine glass, staring at it closely. His hands were ungloved, which made Christine's heart jump about, and they were steady as Erik held the glass still for a moment, holding it close to his mask as he watched the watery liquid inside it churn about. Looking about, Christine could see that her kitchen countertop was littered with little plates of crushed powders, slices of lemon, knives and bowls. There were a number of her glasses, all stained with different coloured mixtures with forks and knives leaning out of them, and there was a strange smell that she couldn't place, but it was helping to clear her nose, thankfully. There was something boiling in a pan on top of the oven, besides a few empty pans, and Christine spied Paul sitting beside a plate of tuna, hiding behind a barricade of tins of soup, and several plastic bags. He was watching her as she leaned against the door frame, and Christine smiled. She hadn't been sure if the two of them would get along, Paul rarely got on with anyone other than herself, even Raoul had trouble with him, but Paul was just careful with his trust. Christine returned her attention to Erik. He was in his own little world, facing away from her as he lifted one hand to jot something down, on a notepad he must have procured from somewhere, mumbling to himself as he stared at the wine glass again, twirling a pencil around his fingers casually as he rested it against his notes.

Christine was very happy to stand there and watch him. She was kind of enjoying the chance to watch him while he wasn't aware of her presence. She was free to watch him without worrying how she looked in front of him, and her eyes travelled down his back as she appreciated the view, smirking to herself. It was an appealing sight, and Christine _had_ missed him terribly. Erik looked so very peaceful, even in his deep concentration, and he looked as though he belonged there, in her kitchen. Looking out of the window in front of him, Christine could see that it was morning, and the light settled around Erik's figure, almost making him glow as he hummed to himself. Christine felt so very happy, the happiest she had been in a while, and she smiled, resting her head against the doorframe, trying her best to stay silent. She was enjoying the calm before the storm, before they would start talking, but her heart was beating wildly in her chest. Erik was so very special, he was so wonderful to be there for her, though what he was up to she had no idea. She had guessed that he had been the one to give her the wet blanket and the odd concoction on her lips and in her mouth, but what Erik was doing in her kitchen seemed to make no sense to her. He looked like a scientist, about to come across some grand discovery. Christine raised her head from the wooden frame as Erik lifted himself slowly from his stool, holding onto the wine glass carefully with both hands as he turned around, and saw her.

"Hello, Erik." Christine whispered, blinking slowly as she smiled serenely. Her throat was a little hoarse, but it wasn't too much effort to talk.

"Christine..." Erik murmured, his voice soft and low as he paused to watch her. "You... You should be in bed."

Christine smile faded. "I was. I was wondering where you were. How long have I been asleep?"

"Fourteen hours. I..." He looked about him, but lifted his head to meet hers as he told her, "You... You are _sick_, you _must_ go back to bed!"

"Fourteen hours? Really?" Christine yawned. "It feels longer. And I'm fine, honestly. A little sore, but I'm awake now. I came looking for you."

Erik looked down into the glass he was holding, and flinched, looking back up at her again. "You were not yourself, you... You _scared_ me. I thought you would _never_ wake up, Christine, you-"

"Erik, I'm okay." Christine reassured, pushing herself off the doorframe to take a few steps towards him. "I'm _okay_."

She chuckled, holding a hand to her forehead as she said in an airy tone, "But I might just faint again!"

Christine pretended to sigh dramatically, and gave a show of acting as though she was light headed, closing her eyes, and opened them again to see Erik pinching the stem of the wine glass very tightly. Christine stopped smiling, and frowned as he put the glass down, his mask turning away from her.

"I'm fine, honestly. Back from the dead!" She laughed, hoping to make Erik laugh along with her, but Erik didn't make a sound.

In one fluid motion, Erik had turned to face her, and in two long steps came rushing towards her and crushed her in his embrace, his hands on either side of her hips as his arms surrounded her, lifting her onto her toes as he hugged her. Erik had placed his mask on her shoulder, his face turned away from her as the mask's cold cheek pressed into her shoulder, it's curls digging into her own cheeks as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Erik, I..."

"Christine. Don't say anything. Please, don't say a word. Just let me hold you. Let me... Let me just _hold_ you." Erik whispered, his long arms encompassing her further, pulling her tighter against him.

Christine nodded, close to crying as she heard his voice. Christine had been wrong, Erik had not been happy when she had been watching him. Erik was sad, so very sad, and she hated the fact that she had given him such sadness. His voice had been filled with such heavy emotion, and Christine sympathetically raised her arms to rest her hands on his back as she hugged him back. They stood in silence, Erik stroking the back of her head as he lifted his head away from hers, cupping her cheek with one hand. It was refreshing, having his cold hands against her skin, and she could easily ignore the way his skin scratched at her. It was just so pleasant against her hot skin, Christine wanted to press them all over her to cool her down. Erik's mask moved slightly, to show that he was looking at his hand, and he snatched it away, taking a few steps back as he watched her.

"F-Forgive me, I did not mean to touch you. My hands... They..." Erik cursed, and began to dig around in his pockets for his gloves.

Christine stepped forward to place her hands to his arms to stop him. Erik paused, and looked up at her. She smiled, and rested a hand against the mask's cheek.

"I've missed you." She told him, looking up at him.

"I... I have missed you too, my dear." Erik answered slowly, raising his hand to press it against hers, pinning it to his cheek. "Christine... I..."

Erik sighed, and hung his head slightly, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "I _love_ you."

Christine sighed, closing her eyes, and felt a few tears drop onto her cheeks. "Erik, you don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that."

Erik's mask lifted. "You... You do not _mind_?" He removed her hands from his face, and held it between them.

"No, Erik. I do not mind." Christine laughed, smiling sweetly at him.

Erik still claimed her hands, and held them to his chest. "Christine, you must know, I will never ask you to... I will never force you to-"

"Erik?"

"Yes, Christine?" Erik asked, allowing her to interrupt him, as he adjusted his careful grip on her fingers.

Christine leaned up, closing her eyes as she balanced herself on her toes, using his hands for support as she pressed her lips directly onto the mask's lips. "I love you too." She whispered, lowering herself back down.

Erik's hands had gripped onto hers very tightly, squeezing them, and Christine winced, trying to flex her fingers as Erik watched her. He dropped her hands, and Christine massaged them as she smiled to herself. Her skin was sensitive, just as Erik's had been when he had scrubbed away the dead skin on the morning after the party, and despite the stinging pain, it was an oddly poetic moment for her. Erik had been very careful with her, he had not intentionally hurt her, and made her feel very content and safe. Christine looked up, Erik's back to turned to her as he picked up the wine glass and turned to hold it out to her.

"Drink this." Erik told her, sounding out of breath as Christine's eyes tried to focus on the golden looking mixture.

"Ummm..." Christine pulled an uncertain face, and felt the drying sludge on her upper lip begin to crack. She raised her fingers to touch it, and looked at Erik. Why had he not said anything? She had finally told him that she loved him, and now she wasn't sure if he had heard her. Again.

Erik withdrew his hand slightly. "I have been watching over you, healing you as best as I can. I'm afraid my skills lean more towards toxicology and pharmacology, I have no experience in directly healing the sick. I have managed to lower your temperature, ease your sinuses and your throat, though I can see now that there are other symptoms. I... I have not... I...I have bathed your temples, and your arms, but I have not touched you anywhere else. You have no better nor more respectful friend in the world than myself." Erik vowed, lifting the glass again to her lips. "Now _drink_."

"Friend?" Christine puzzled, as Erik touched the cool glass to her lips. Erik held her head gently, curling his fingers around her ringlets as he cradled her head, and she opened her mouth, allowing him to pour the thin fluid down her throat. Christine coughed at the taste of the sickly syrup, and pushed the glass away from her cringing face. "Ugh, what is that?"

"A tincture, for your throat. You were coughing in your sleep, I did not want you to strain your voice, so I have been feeding this to you every hour." Erik commented, placing the glass in the sink as he still held onto her head with one hand.

"Every hour? While I was asleep?"

"For fourteen hours, yes. I wasn't sure how much you would require, or how often, but it seems to be working. You were fast asleep, Christine, I had to help you somehow. As for the extract on your lip, your aloe plant in the bathroom was a useful source, I am glad to see you own such useful plants-"

"Erik? Did..." Christine bit her lip. "You did hear me, didn't you? About... How I _feel_ about you?"

Erik pulled his hands away from her, so she could not touch them. "I did."

"_And_?"

Erik sighed. "I think you are too tired to be making this kind of decision."

"Decision?" Christine asked, astonished. "_I_ haven't _decided_ anything, it's my _heart_ that has done this. It beats for you, Erik. It sings and cries and calls for you. Even while we have been apart, my heart has been yours. None of us can choose where we will love, and I _do_ love you, Erik! Will you hear it again? I _love_ you!"

Erik's hands shook as they took her face, his fingertips pressing into her cheeks as he spoke in a wavering voice, "Christine, you cannot love me. Not until you know everything, and you are too sick to understand what I must tell you. You must rest, you must let me help you back into your bed-"

"Erik-"

"Christine, I am not arguing with you. You are going straight to bed, this instant." Erik appealed, pointing his finger out of the kitchen, his mood swiftly changing.

"No!" Christine asserted, confused. Why was Erik acting so odd? Shouldn't he have been happy that she loved him? What was it that made her words so unbelievable? "Not until you accept my love."

"Christine, I am asking you _nicely_, go back to your room and do not come out until I tell you to."

"Why, Erik? What have I done wrong? Why have I upset you? I don't understand, you say you love me and then you ignore me when I tell you the same thing! Why... Why are you _acting_ this way?" Christine cried, taking a few steps back as she held her throbbing head.

"_Christine_..." Erik moaned, gently taking her wrists. "You have done nothing wrong! It is my fault, all of it. You mean so much to me, Christine. I don't ever want to leave, I just want to carry on pretending with you, here in your home. I could spend eternity here, looking after you. I want to forget about everything outside of these four walls. They protect me from the truth. The truth that exists outside of this time and space. I must tell you of it. Why I had to send you home, why I couldn't keep you, why Carlotta wanted to ruin us, and worse still, I must tell you of my past, and I could not bear it if you told me you loved me, and then rejected me. I would die, Christine, without your love. Please, let me love you, Christine. Let me look after you, for I shall do my very best to make you happy, and when you are better, I will tell you everything. I... I will leave if you ask me to, I will never approach you again, but please, while you are sick, you must do as I say."

"Erik..." Christine sighed, before coughing. "I want to stay here too, and just forget the world, I've never been happier, and it _is_ because of you. I know there are things you must tell me, believe me, I have questions, but there are things that I must also confess to. So, I understand. You... You want a few days of peace." Christine smiled weakly. "Right?"

Erik nodded slowly, and slowly released her wrists. "Yes... I... I believe a few days should be enough."

Christine lowered her gaze. "Do you still want me to go back to my room?"

"No, but it is for your health, my dear." Erik said, a little warmth in his voice as he took one of her hands, leading her into the living room. "Come, I will read to you, if you like. Or I could sit and hold your hand, if it pleases you. I am afraid I am not very good company while you like are this-"

"You make fine company, Erik." Christine murmured, blushing as she trailed behind Erik, her eyes slipping down his back once more as she made no attempt at hiding her pleased smile. Christine wasn't sure what had gotten into her, but she wasn't complaining.

"Your cat doesn't think so." Erik grumbled. "I think he rather despises me."

"Paul? He seemed pretty happy sitting near you. I think you've gotten along well without me." Christine said casually, looking over her shoulder as she watched Paul leave the kitchen, stopping once he realized that she was watching him.

Erik stopped in his stride, before they reached her bedroom door, his hand around hers twitching as he stared at her open door. "Christine... You..."

Christine raised an eyebrow, as he turned around to ask her, "You must give me permission."

Christine blinked. "To do what?"

"To enter your room." He stated, matter-of-factly.

"But," Christine fumbled for the right words. "You've been in there before. At least fifteen times, I think, if I have been asleep for fourteen hours, and that was after I showed you in there myself-"

"Yes, and that has been while you were asleep or otherwise. You needed my help, and I was not going to stand out here and let you suffer. But you are awake now, and you must consent to my presence in your bedroom. I will never step in there without your permission, Christine."

Christine laughed. "Of course you can go in, Erik. It's just a room. It's a little messy, I know, but as long as you knock before you enter, I think we'll be okay."

Erik's hand squeezed hers for a moment. "I must knock to gain entrance?"

"I guess?" Christine laughed carelessly. "I mean, I know it's you at the door, and I'm not going to stop you from coming in, it's just that I just think a head's up before you come in would prevent some embarrassing situations."

Erik hummed, looking back towards the door again. "So..." He adjusted his grip on her hand. "May I...?"

He turned back to look at her, and she smiled at him. "C'mon."

Christine walked around him, entering her bedroom, and Erik followed after her dumbly, watching their hands as she showed him to her bed. She climbed on, holding a corner of the duvet up as she crawled underneath it. Erik still held onto her hand, standing as close to the bed as he could, to make sure he could continue holding her, and he watched as Christine sniffed, moaning as her nose became blocked again.

"Ugh, I feel awful." She complained, ruffling her already puffed up hair, looking up at Erik. "I haven't seen a mirror in ages. Do I look okay?"

"You look wonderful, today." Erik said, sighing, fidgeting in his place.

Christine said nothing, smiling. What was really wonderful was Erik's unwavering loyalty to her. The way he made her feel like a princess, the way he had looked after her, respectful of her boundaries, and all just to take care of her while she was sick. Erik must have been exhausted, worried out of his mind, and Christine felt a little guilty for feeling so happy when he was obviously distraught over something.

"Erik, you've done enough for now. Come lie down with me." Christine offered, patting the empty space in her bed beside her as she scooted over to the other side.

"I do not think it is a good idea." Erik looked at the empty space before her. "The last time we laid down beside each other, you did not find it a pleasant experience."

"Erik, the last time you held me, I _was_ enjoying it, it wasn't until Nadir started touching you that you started to panic and wake up. And I wouldn't say _that_ wasn't entertaining, either." Christine said, blushing as she bit her lip. Christine could still remember the way Erik's hands had grabbed the front of her skirt, twisting the material tight over her thighs, and the strength behind his forceful embrace, it had excited her, the way he had wrapped his arm around her chest, her head nestled in the crook of his arm. Christine had been shocked at first, his actions had come out of nowhere, but it had awakened _something_ in her.

Erik's mask tilted to one side. "You enjoyed it?"

Christine wanted to answer, her mouth already open with the ready reply that she had enjoyed it, actually, but she became bashful, and her stunned expression soon melted away into an smile as she struggled to get the words out. Christine started to laugh, running a tired hand through her hair.

"You could say that." She admitted, shrugging. "So, are you getting in or what?"

Christine looked up at him, and Erik watched her silently, straightening his head as he said nothing. She watched him, delighted as he gradually eased himself onto the bed. Erik still held himself as far away as he could manage, but he was still holding onto her hand as though she was a lifeline. Christine laughed, and tugged on the front of his shirt.

"You'd be of more help to me if you held me, Erik."

"How could it _help_ you?"

Christine blushed. "Your hands, they're rather cool, it feels nice against my skin."

Erik's hand's trembled as he asked, "You... You would let me hold you again? You wish for me to touch you?"

"Yes." Christine said, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. "If you like, I can hold you too."

Erik made a noise, and whispered, "You said you would."

Christine smiled sleepily, turning her head slightly. "When did I say that?"

"In the gardens. You said... You said you would hold me. You did, Christine, I have tremendous recall, I remember that you clearly said-"

Christine laughed softly, shushing him into silence as she began inching her head closer and closer to his. Erik froze as she started to move her body closer to his, facing him as she lay on her side, and carefully, so as not to alarm him, she pressed her cheek to his shirt, on his chest. Erik took some powerfully deep breaths as she slipped her arms around his waist. It was difficult, Erik hadn't moved as she tried to slide one arm underneath him, but she had him easily enough, and snuggled against him. She hoped he was okay, he was awfully quiet, but he lowered his arms around her, and held her tenderly, pressing the front of his mask to her hair.

"Christine... Would it offend you to hear those words again?"

"What words?"

"How I feel for you. Would it make you happy if I said those words to you?"

"Yes, Erik, I would be very happy if you did."

"I..." Erik paused, taking another deep breath as she stroked her hair. "I love you."

"Am I allowed to say it?" Christine inquired.

Erik didn't answer. He only continued stroking her hair, staring at the wall behind her, breathing steadily as Christine sighed, and closed her eyes.

* * *

**I really do recommend listening to this song, it's made me cry on so many occasions. I first heard it when I saw the trailer for 'Wolf Children', which is a beautiful, moving anime that I also recommend that you watch. The soundtrack is so gentle and stirring, the storyline is so heartmoving, and it's one of my favourite films ever. I have been waiting for months to use this song for this chapter, and I'm so happy that I finally get to use it!  
**

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	75. Chapter 75

_**Eric Clapton's "****Change The World"**_

_If I could reach the stars_  
_Pull one down for you,_  
_Shine it on my heart_  
_So you could see the truth:_

_That this love inside_  
_Is everything it seems._  
_But for now I find_  
_It's only in my dreams._

_And I can change the world,_  
_I will be the sunlight in your universe._  
_You would think my love was really something good,_  
_Baby if I could change the world._

_If I could be king,_  
_Even for a day,_  
_I'd take you as my queen;_  
_I'd have it no other way._

_And our love would rule_  
_This kingdom we had made._  
_'til then I'd be a fool,_  
_Wishing for the day..._

_That I can change the world,_  
_I would be the sunlight in your universe._  
_You would think my love was really something good,_  
_Baby if I could change the world._  
_Baby if I could change the world._

* * *

For the fourteen hours that Christine had been asleep, Erik had been wide awake, with every second devoted to her as he built himself a laboratory in Christine's kitchen. It was difficult at first, there were many utensils that he had used that he didn't understand the original purpose of, but they made satisfactory equipment. What ingredients Erik could not find, he wrote down, handing the list off to Christine's driver, as well as his card, instructing him to procure the items no matter what the issue. The man had done as Erik asked, and had also brought back a number of other items for Christine, naming a few of them as he held the bag out for him. From the way he spoke, he made it seem as though they were typical items that were often presented to sick people, though they were ordinary things. A few cans of chicken soup, some lemons and grapes, a box of pain relievers, a pack of tea bags and tulips. Erik had handed back the tulips, annoyed, but the man insisted that it was customary to give sick patients flowers and fruit, and that the lemons could be used for adding into her tea. Erik had thanked him, rolling his eyes beneath his mask, and showed him out before he started to offer any other useless suggestions. Erik had thrown away the pain relievers, and the tulips, but he had kept the rest, seeing the sense in them. They were always something he could offer Christine when she awakened. Erik was just irritated that the man seemed so concerned over Christine, but it was likely that she had befriended him, and that just made him happily annoyed.

Because it was _Christine_. It was _her_, sleeping in the shadowy bedroom, blissfully unaware that _he_ was openly adoring her. While every second had been devoted to her, in the seconds that he could spare, he had stood by her door, watching her as she slept, worshipping her as he worried for her. It seemed as though she would never wake, but she was alive, dreaming away as he tinkered with his solutions. There were times when Erik had to enter her room, to approach Christine and touch her. He had to, in order to check her heart rate, wash and dry her limp arms and even her tired, beautiful face, but Erik had been respectful, keeping his attention entirely on his work as he noted down his findings. After the fifth round of medicine that Erik had carefully poured into Christine's mouth as he held her head up, Erik had been frustrated to find that Christine was not responding the way that she should have been. Her throat and nose was still looking painfully red, her fever had not gone down, and Erik had to resort to other methods, wetting one of Christine's towel to apply to her forehead, creating a batter to apply to her upper lip, but none of it seemed to help. There was something he was missing, something that Erik had failed to see, and he wondered if he was hurting Christine, rather than helping her, but she did not seem to be in any pain. Erik had tried three more different strains, adjusting his measurements, before Christine had found him in his kitchen.

He had been inspecting his latest batch, gloveless as he wrote his notes down on a notepad he had found lying beside Christine's computer. It was easier for him to work without his gloves on, but he had not expected Christine to be standing directly behind him when he got up to take her her medicine. She had been leaning against the doorframe, watching him as she smiled, and she greeted him, looking very tired. Her voice was a little rough, and it irked him to no end, but Christine was standing before him, awake, and at last, with him. She asked how long she had slept, and Erik had told her, to her surprise. Erik had looked down at his hands, flinching as he realized they were ungloved before his fragile Christine, but Christine continued on, undisturbed as she took a few tiny steps into her kitchen, and began to joke with him. Erik had only just put the wine glass down he had been holding onto before Christine had started to joke about her own death and Erik had forcefully hugged her. He shouldn't have, he most definitely should not have hugged her, but Erik was just so happy that she was there, and standing before him, and not angry at him. She had continued smiling at him, as though he had never left, as though they had never been apart for more than a second, and as though Erik had never broken up with her. She should have been angry, she should have been furious and upset and sad, but she was happy. She tried to talk, but Erik stopped her. It was bad for her throat, and Erik just wanted to hold her. He just wanted to feel her chest rise and fall against his, to just marvel at the fact that they were reunited.

Erik felt light-headed as he stroked her hair, stroking her cheek as he stared into her sleepy eyes. He had seen the sight of his disgusting hands against her face, and pulled himself away. There was no need for his terrible hands to touch her, not when there was so much to tell her, that would make her not want him to touch her. He crumbled though, as Christine came and took his arm, telling him she had missed him, and her eyes were so clear and perfect when they gazed upon him, that he could not wait to tell her that he loved her. He stumbled over his words, but she welcomed them with a smile that meant she knew his words to be true. But then Christine had kissed his mask, telling him the words he had dreaded, and wished, to hear, and the moment had become so clear. Christine did not love him, not all of him, and he needed her to love him through and through. He needed her love, he would kill for it, he would die for it, but she needed time to clear her head, let her settle and adjust so that when he told her the terrible truth, she could tell him, without any distractions, how she truly felt.

Erik tried to distract himself by getting Christine to drink his remedy, but she was resistant, and it wasn't until he informed her that he knew what he was doing did she allow him to feed it to her. She had hated the taste, and seemed stunned that he had given it to her every hour, or at least a variation of it. It seemed only natural to Erik, but he supposed that Christine had her own ways of curing any illnesses she had. Erik was just confident that his methods would work better, or should work better, once he found out the correct measurements for Christine's medicine. Christine persisted with her original thought, and asked him if he had heard her confession, and Erik had tried to explain why she could not say those words to him. It would only be a cruel trick to let her carry on believing that she loved him. She protested, repeating her words over and over, saying the very words that he felt for her as well, and Erik had ordered her out of the room. Christine had started to argue with him, and Erik had urged her to listen to him. He had missed Christine, and the thought of losing her once more was terrifying him. If she could not understand him, if she could not say those three words after everything she learned, then Erik would leave. He had thoguht about it long and hard, but he was confident of his decision. If Christine refused him, then he would not force her love. Erik did not to want her unhappy, in any way, and if his presence offended her, and it only made sense that he should disappear form her life. She mercifully understood the words he spoke to her, and promised him a few days of peace. A few days to let her recover, and then all truths would be revealed. A few days, to let him pretend, to let him hold onto the perfect dream, to let him remember her by.

Christine had allowed him to take her back to her room, and she had followed behind him meekly, a strange tone in her voice until Erik asked for permission to enter her room. Now that Christine was conscious, it would have been inappropriate for him to enter, but she laughed it off, as though it was silly to ask. Erik wondered if her fever was affecting her in any way, but she asserted that her room was alright to enter if he knocked first, to ensure that Erik not see anything that Christine did not want him to see. Erik was pleased with that notion. Christine was basically saying that he was always allowed into her room as long as he made his presence known. It was more than he had expected, and Christine had taken the lead, guiding him into her bedroom and to her bed. She had climbed on, sitting lazily with her legs splayed out as she held his hand, asking about her appearance. Erik told her the truth, and she had smiled at him, pleased by his words as she encouraged him onto her bed, asking him to lie with her. Erik reminded her why it wasn't a good idea, but Christine had grinned, biting her lip as she tried to tell him that everything would be fine, and opened her duvet to him.

Erik had joined her, possessed by the idea of sharing her bed once more, but it would only be until she asked him to leave, or she fell asleep, which seemed the most likely situation to happen. Christine had pouted when he had courteously stayed away from her, and she asked him to touch her, asked him to hold her hands to him, telling him that his hateful hands helped her. Christine had even offered to hold him, and Erik remembered how she had promised him to hold in the botanical gardens. Erik had stopped her then, fearful of the consequences, but Erik would not fall asleep this time, he was far too busy to sleep now that Christine was sick. Erik had reminded her of the gardens, and Christine had responded by snuggling up close to him, pressing her cheek to his chest, wrapping her arms around his midriff. Erik closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Christine touching him, as she once did, without fear or concern, and Erik remembered how much he had missed her.

Erik asked Christine to let him tell her he loved her, and she allowed him, her lips rubbing against his shirt as she spoke, and she asked him if she was allowed to say those words back to him, but Erik could not answer her. He had no words that would please her, he could not tell her again to not admit her love for him. Erik had kept his eyes closed, stroking her hair as he tried to tell himself that it was wrong to let her think that it was acceptable to say that she loved him, but Erik wanted her love, in any form that it could take. If she believed her words, if she thought she loved him, then Erik did not in any way want to make her think otherwise, but it was useless. She would learn everything, and it would take a saint to forgive his past. Christine had not pressed him any further, and carried on holding him, sighing as Erik continued petting her. Erik must have laid there for hours, just holding Christine, feeling shivers run up and down his back, before he started to warm up, due to their shared body heat. He had heard music at one point, and Erik had been about to look for the source of the sound, when he blinked, and jumped as he realized that he was no longer holding Christine, and instead was spread out across her bed, lying on his stomach.

Erik jumped out of the bed, confused as he entered the living room and realized Christine was in the kitchen by the sound of something clanking about in the sink. He went to stand in the doorway, and stared at Christine's back, as she turned around to greet him, smiling as she held up a steaming mug, and some toast. Her hair was tied messily into a bun, piled on the top of her head, wearing mismatched clothing, blue cotton pajama bottoms and an orange tank top, and Erik was annoyed to see that she was pinching two pills between her fingers as she held her toast.

"Hey." She mumbled, sipping on her drink. "I thought you'd be asleep for a while."

"I...I slept?" Erik frowned. "Did anything happen?"

Christine shook her head lazily. "No. You did talk a few times, but I couldn't hear what you were saying. You sounded happy. It was a bit hard getting untangled from you, but nothing happened. Did you sleep okay?"

Erik took a breath of relief. "Wonderfully." He looked up, slowly approaching her. "Christine, what are you doing out of bed? I asked you to stay there for your own good."

"You fell asleep, and I wasn't tired, so I got up, took a shower, and I've made myself some chicken soup," Christine said, pointing over to her oven, where a bowl filled with the creamy brown soup sat beside an empty pan. "I've tried not to mess with anything you've had out here, but there's something odd, the flat seems different."

"I did some tidying while I was waiting for you. I have watered your plants, and I did try to feed Paul, but he didn't seem interested." Erik answered as he looked around for the pesky beast.

Christine smiled. "Oh, that's sweet of you. You didn't have to." She took a sip of her tea, licking her lips before asking, "Did you buy, and then throw away some tulips, by any chance?"

Erik stared at the bin, where Christine had been looking, and panicked. Erik should have put them in a vase, but Erik had been convinced that Christine would not like them. "I..."

Christine laughed. "Thank you for the thought. I would have loved them."

Erik struggled to say anything other than, "You're welcome."

Erik definitely wished he _had_ put the flowers in some fresh water now, and he wondered how best to get her more flowers, when Christine started to place the two pills that she held into her mouth.

"Don't take those, you'll upset the balance of my work." Erik grumbled, stepping forward to take the pills from her fingers.

"They're just pain relievers," Christine sulked. "I tried them earlier, and they seem to work, which is good because nothing ever usually works for me. Your pills did, but they-"

"My pills?" Erik asked, puzzled. "What pills?"

"Meg gave me two pills from her mum's desk drawer, to help me stay awake. She told me you made them for her, and I figured they would only work for a little bit. They actually worked really well, I was surprised."

Erik groaned, throwing the pills into the sink. "Of _course_ that girl would give you... Christine, those pills were meant for Antoinette, they have been measured out precisely for her requirements, they were not meant for you. Damn that girl for giving them to you. She has been nothing but a nuisance from the start."

"Erik, I'm fine. Apart from a bunged up nose, sore chest and a fever, I'm good." Christine said, walking around him to enter the living room. "Meg was trying to help, and she has, as far as I can see. It's not her fault that Carlotta was using her, and she thought the pills would help. _I_ thought they would help. If anything, you should be annoyed with me for taking them."

"Christine, I am not annoyed with you. I am annoyed with her for spying on the two of us for Carlotta!" Erik argued.

"She was being forced to, Erik, it wasn't her choice. She's admitted she's done wrong, and we should thank her for being brave enough to step forward and speaking up."

"Christine, how can you forgive her for what she's done to us?"

Christine returned into the kitchen, without her tea or her toast, and sniffed as she grabbed her bowl of chicken soup. "What _she's_ done to us? What happened isn't Meg's fault. What happened was because of Carlotta."

Christine began digging through her drawers for a spoon, her eyes focused on her task. "And also partially your fault."

Erik watched her, wincing. "I know, Christine."

Christine looked up, sighing, and rand a hand htrough her hair. "I'm sorry. I... I'm just frustrated. There's so muh we need to talk about, and it's so hard to just carry on. I mean, I'm enjoying the the peace, but the war is pressing, you know?"

Christine pursed her lips. " But it doesn't matter, Erik. Not right now. We can talk about it properly later. I was about to watch 'Gone with the Wind'. I've left you something to wear in the bathroom, and you can stick your clothes in with my laundry. You can refresh yourself in there while I watch my movie. If you need anything, just call me."

Christine left the kitchen, moving to sit herself upon her sofa, cross-legged as she rested her soup in her lap. Paul immediately appeared beside her, and Christine stroked him behind his ears as she looked up at Erik. "Erik, are you okay?"

Erik was floundered. He had no idea what had just happened, but Christine was very calm, and was expecting him to be.

"Yes, Christine. I... I will be with you shortly." Erik excused himself into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Erik found the black trousers and the white cotton shirt neatly folded on a towel rack, and made sure the door was locked. Christine was acting very oddly, with no logical reason. Christine had mentioned confessing something to him, something that she needed to get off of her chest, but Erik had no clue to to what it was, and Christine's emotions seemed to be running wild. One minute she was happy, then annoyed, then confused, and Erik wondered whether it was his solutions that were affecting her, or her own metal duress. Erik wondered about the clothes when he started to put them on, after his shower, but he could come up with no logical solution as to why Christine would have men's clothing. They did not fit particularly well, but he was sure that he would not be in them long. He came out, his mask secured, with his eyes drawn to Christine as she sat curled up on the sofa, coughing as she reached for more tissues on her coffee table. She looked at him, and smiled before blowing her nose.

"Hey, you've come up to a good part. Scarlett has agreed to dance with Rhett Butler." She told him.

Christine patted the space beside her and Erik joined her, pulling one of the blankets that was draped over the back of the sofa and covered her lap with it, as she took her arm and curled up to him, her side pressing against him as she took his gloved hands. Whatever her emotions, Erik was just happy he was there to see them all. Christine was very kind to Erik, to let him look after her, and to give him a few days before he had to tell her of his past. She was very understanding, and Erik squeezed her hands several times, to remind himself of what he had almost lost.

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	76. Chapter 76

_**Acres of Lions's "****Reaction"**_

_Oh your heart was spinning on a string  
It was such a decretive thing, but never fluttering  
Woah oh-oh  
I just want to know,  
What makes your heart beat faster for me?  
Darling, I never got, a reaction, a reaction from you,  
Even when I pushed, and pulled at you,  
No reaction, no reaction from you,  
Will your heart go,  
Bah bah, bah bah  
All your face, hazier with age,  
Was it all the time I spent away sleeping through my days?  
Ooo oh oh oh,  
I just want to know,  
What makes your heart beat faster for me?  
Darling, I never got a reaction, a reaction from you,  
Even when I pushed and pulled at you,  
No reaction, no reaction from you._

* * *

Christine had known that Erik would have been resistant to her admission of love, but she could not think of a way to make him understand that her feelings were true, and that whatever Erik had to tell her, then they would be able to move past it. There had been so many things in Erik's life that she suspected had been unfair to him, as Nadir had mentioned how Erik had been associated with the Iranian government, having been found in a cave, a fact that was still quite a challenge to understand in her head, and from what Christine had gathered, his mother had barely even treated him like a human, let alone her own son, and Christine badly wished she could show Erik how life wasn't as cruel and unforgiving as she knew it could be. What worried Christine was her own attempt at admitting the truth to him. She could imagine many possible scenarios in which she told him of her kiss with Raoul, but she could not imagine how they would end. Erik was so unpredictable, he would undoubtedly be angry, but would he be in control of his emotions? Erik mostly likely would have some nasty words to say about Raoul, but Erik wouldn't lash out at her, would he? Christine had to wonder if it would be for her best interest if she made sure if she was on the other side of the room when she told him, but it would have been cowardly to shrink away from him. Christine needed Erik to see the conviction in her eyes, for him to see that she loved him, and only him, and that Raoul, while a tremendous part of her life, was no threat to their relationship. Any hopes she had one had for their friendship now had been sorely squashed.

Christine had been considering everything as she lay on her bed, tucked away beneath the covers as she held Erik tightly to her, his own arms draped around her as they silently enjoyed the act of just being near each other. Christine had been in happy wonderment, the feeling of Erik's cold hands against her back and her hair, the mask pressing against her crown, she savored every second that she could as she listened to his steady breathing. It sounded so much stronger than hers, which wasn't difficult to beat, and Christine tried to hide her coughing, but the sneezes she couldn't disguise, and the sniffling was irritating _her_ mainly. Erik didn't say a word, not even flinching when Christine had sneezed particularly loud at one point, shaking both their bodies from the force, and she hesitantly reasoned that he must have been asleep by the was his mask was tilted down to look at her face, his loose, but possessive grip on her, and his gentle breathing. Christine was fine with letting him sleep, it would give her a few moments to herself where she could think clearly. It would mean that Christine could finally tidy herself up, and feel more like herself. As of that moment, she was confused, out of sorts while she remained under the weather, and once she got some food in her, and cup of tea, Christine felt she would have been able to arrange her thoughts and feelings in a way that Erik would easily understand.

It had taken her a few minutes to slip out of Erik's embrace. He did not like the idea of her leaving, but he was wholly unresistant, mumbling some words to her as he held onto the last few tendrils of her hair, and Christine watched him, sitting lazily as she wiped her nose with some tissues that she gotten out of a nearby drawer. Erik looked very peaceful, more than he had in the botanical gardens. Erik had shivered and squirmed a lot in his sleep then, but Erik was entirely motionless now. He must have been sleeping deeply, as it seemed nothing would wake him. Christine had left her bedroom, Paul slipping around her aching feet as she rubbed her neck before attending to some personal needs, and grabbed herself a shower. It helped relieve her muscles, and for a while, her nose was less stuffy, and her head felt less like rock, but she felt more level headed, walking around her flat as she started to notice the oddest things.

Everything seemed out of place, as though everything had been shifted an inch to the left, and she felt slightly off kilter as she found some flowers dumped in her bin, some of her plants cut up, the processed pieces still mashed in bowls in the kitchen, and everything had been straightened and corrected. All of the photos on her fridge had been set to right angles, including her magnets, her tinned food organized by name, and yet the entire kitchen had formed a black hole of chaos and anarchy, as strange seeping liquids stuck to the sides of empty mugs, dirty pots and pans piled high in her sink, and Erik had decided to use some of her baking equipment in ways she had never seen before. There were silicone baking molds that he had used as control test groups, she guessed, and Christine didn't like the look of any of the substances that were in her home. Erik did seem to know what he was doing though, so she was happy to leave it all where it was, she didn't think that Erik would like it if she upset any of his experiments.

Christine did question what Erik was up to, because as organized as he was in the kitchen, it was odd that Erik seemed to have no plans outside of healing her. She had searched her flat numerous times, looking for suitcases or something to suggest that Erik had thought out his arrival a little better. He didn't seem to have brought himself any clothes, but that was an easy enough problem to solve. Erik would just have to wear her father's old clothes. Christine was a little embarrassed to offer them to Erik, they would most likely not even fit him, but it wasn't as though he was being forced to wear them forever. Once Christine cleaned his clothes, then he'd be able to wear his own clothes, but Christine was interested in seeing Erik wear anything other than the bland white shirt and black trousers that he always wore. Even her father's rough, brown cotton pants made an interesting alternative. Christine had been tempted to ask if he had booked a hotel room for him to stay in during the time of his visit, but it seemed unlikely.

Christine had been thinking about Raoul when Erik had emerged from her room. She hoped that he was okay, and that his head was a little clearer now that they had spent some time apart. He couldn't have been angry with her forever, if he was, and she wished she could talk with him, but she wouldn't have known what to have said to him. The situation was made more difficult, now that she had Erik back with her. Christine tried not to let her thoughts show as Erik stepped into the kitchen. He sounded very sleepy, as though as few more hours would have done him good, and Christine had enjoyed the sight of Erik standing before her. He sounded happy, still, as he commented that he had slept wonderfully. Christine was pleased, and they chatted idly, though they did argue over Meg's actions, as Erik discovered that she had been given some pills by the apologetic girl, and Christine tried to defend her friend, but there were so many arguments threatening to start up that Christine had wisely pulled herself out of the conversation, and allowed Erik the days of peace that he so craved. She offered him her bathroom, and waited patiently as she tried not to listen to the noises he made in there, her attention wavering between following the film she had picked out, and the thought of a naked Erik that would soon be wearing her father's clothes. Erik joined her, and Christine guiltily asked him to sit with her and watch the movie with her. She had been rude to him in the minutes that they had spoken, but Christine was so wound up, and her head was hot in more than one way. She apologized to him for her conduct, squeezing his hands, and the moment had passed, after Erik had assured her that everything was fine.

Erik continued to look after her, excusing himself from her side every so often, when he would enter the kitchen and carry on mixing ingredients, bringing out to her some samples to her to drink, handing her odd pastes that he told her to apply, insisting that they would help her as she dug her fingers into the grainy green blend and smeared it over her chest, or wherever he directed her. Erik made sure that she was always covered in blankets, always fed and watered, and Christine took it all with a smile, though she felt rather useless as Erik took over everything for her. He personally watched over her, but he did allow her to time to herself, which was very considerate of him. But of all the decrees he had commanded to her, the one that annoyed her the most was the announcement of him no longer sleeping in her bedroom. Erik told her that it was still inappropriate, and when Christine asked where he slept, he answered that he planned to sleep on the couch if the mood ever struck him. She tried telling him that he ought to sleep when his body required it, but Erik only answered that sometimes, he had to ignore his body's requirements, in a vague, retrained way, stroking her hair as he tucked her in.

Erik was sweet in other ways, often petting her hand when they sat close, he entertained her by telling funny stories that made her laugh, and asking her questions about some of the items around her home. Erik would let her sit in her living room, if she was feeling up to it, and encouraged her to talk, about anything, as he watched her. It wasn't very good for her voice, but Erik had insisted that her throat was healing nicely, and that her voice wasn't too affected if she spoke. Christine supposed that Erik was just enjoying listening to her talk, and the thought made her smile. It had been while Paul had been peeking his head over her suitcases as he hid behind them, that Christine had discovered one of Erik's more extraordinary talents. They had been sitting in the living room, one afternoon, watching some trivial tv show about home remodeling, Erik constantly pointing out flaws in the construction as Christine sipped on tea and listened to him. Erik had gotten bored with the show, and Christine hadn't been fully paying attention herself when Erik held out one hand towards the suitcases, and tried to bring Paul out of his hiding place by clicking his tongue, rubbing his fingers together as Christine had shown him.

"You know, I'm not sure actually what Paul thinks of you." Christine commented, sniffing. "I thought he liked you, but he still seems kind of unsure."

"Yes." Erik said, watching the slowly sinking head of her cat, until all they could see were the tips of his ears as they poked out from behind the cases. "He is unlike any other animal I have come across in my time. He is very strong willed, I think."

"Yeah. He's odd, but I love him." Christine grinned, leaning over Erik's lap as she held her hand out towards Paul, rubbing her fingers together as she murmured to him, "Pauly, baby. Come here."

Erik had looked down at her, his mask tilting to one side, and after watching her try to call to Paul, he returned his gaze to her cat, who had lifted his head to peer at the two of them.

"You're so naughty, Paul." Christine sighed, withdrawing her hand, sitting upright as she teased, "_Maybe_ I should put you out to get some fresh air."

Christine had been smiling to herself, but from behind the suitcases, a voice answered, "_I am not naughty, Christine, but I would like to go outside_."

Christine looked at the suitcases, her mouth open as she tried to comprehend what she had just heard. She had heard a voice, as clear as day, from Paul. She glanced at Erik from the corner of her eyes, to see if he had heard the mysterious voice, but Erik was still looking at the suitcases as well. Christine turned to face the television, feeling her heart quake a little in her chest, and then stared out of the window. Christine had not imagined the voice, but if Erik had not heard it, then it couldn't have meant that the voice was real. She did not know who it belonged to, the voice did not belong to Erik, it was much more crafty, exactly how she would have imagined Paul to sound like, and she turned back to look at the suitcases. She could not see Paul, but he appeared, casually walking to the kitchen as he licked his lips, completely oblivious to her distress.

Christine cautiously looked up at Erik, and wondered if he would think her mad. "Um..."

Erik turned his mask to look at her. Christine quickly looked out of the window, feeling her cheeks turn red. She wondered if her fever had taken a turn for the worse, when the voice spoke again, from the kitchen.

"_Christine, did you not hear me? I said I would like to go outside. It's nice outside, today._"

Christine shakily looked back over to the kitchen, and then up to Erik, who was bowing his head to look at her face clearly. "Erik, there's... Can you hear-"

"Do you not like it?" Erik asked, taking her hand gently. "I'm sorry, I thought it might amuse you, I just wanted to make you smile."

"That... was _you_?" Christine breathed in relief. "Oh God, I thought I was going mad there. It sounded as though Paul was talking!"

Erik laughed. "You like it, then?"

"Yes, Erik, where did you learn to do... I don't even know what you've done. That was you talking, right? But it didn't even sound like you." Christine laughed with him.

"It is a trick that most ventriloquists learn. I learnt how to throw my voice when I was very young. My mother..." Erik paused, and looked into his lap. "My mother did not like it. She did not understand how I could do it so easily."

Erik lifted his head, and took her hand. "It makes you laugh though."

"It does." Christine replied, nodding. "It's an amazing gift. And I imagine it comes in handy sometimes, too."

"It does." Erik repeated, his voice a little warmer as he squeezed her hand.

"I never could do anything interesting when I was younger." Christine mused. "I didn't really have any talents other than singing. I tried poetry writing, playing the violin, all the stuff that my father could do, but it never clicked in my head, you know. I never was able to play an instrument, or paint, or knit or _anything_, really. I just couldn't figure out why I couldn't do anything other than sing, and other kids used to joke that I was too stupid to be able to do anything else, but I knew it wasn't true. There are just some things that some people are good at, and other people aren't. I think your talent is just one of those things, but only a few people can do it, which makes it even more special."

Christine started to look about the room. "Can you throw your voice anywhere? Like, into the kitchen, or wait, can you make it sound as though it's coming from downstairs?" She asked excitedly.

Erik nodded slowly, looking down towards the floor. "_Within reason, but yes, I can_."

Christine leaned forward, her mouth open as she stared at her carpet. The voice had been muffled, but it was certainly Erik's. "That's... that's so cool!" She laughed.

Erik chuckled with her, and began to throw his voice about the room, changing his voice so many times, he had started to create characters that conversed with her. Christine had been chatting with a figurine that had been sitting on her desk, talking about the weather, until Christine remembered that she was in fact talking to Erik through the little statue, and she turned around to face him, breathless as she said,

"You can do some _really_ amazing stuff with your voice, Erik. I mean, those talents really shouldn't be wasted."

Erik had jumped, surprised that their conversation was over, but once he heard her words, his hand tightened around hers, before he released it entirely and kept both his hands in his lap. "They were not." He replied coldly.

Christine sighed. Erik did not seem to show any sign of wanting to discuss it with her further, but Christine wasn't surprised. He had been avoiding all conversations that would lead to his history, and he had not questioned her on what she wished to discuss, but as Christine watched him, her eyes drawn to his mask, she told him, "Erik, it's been a few days. I'm feeling better, a lot better, thanks to you."

Erik held his breath, but Christine continued, taking his hand. "There's something we have to discuss. I know you have something that you want to say, but I think we need to discuss what has happened while... while I've been here without you. Because you need to hear it, and I can't wait to tell you any longer. You deserve the truth, from my own lips."

Erik lifted his mask slightly. "I do not wish to hear it."

"Erik, you must-"

"Christine, whatever secrets you have, they will only hurt us. My secrets will do far worse than that, they will kill the spark that settles here between us. I am content with hiding our secrets."

"Erik, I can't live like that. I can't lie to you about these matters. They're important, and I know that you're worried, but you have to trust me. Will you listen to what I have to say?"

Erik nodded after a moment. "It can be no worse than my truth."

Christine took a deep breath. "I should start from the beginning, though I'm not sure if I know it." She sighed. "No, I should start with the most important issue. Everything else can be resolved."

Erik continued watching her, and Christine pouted. What she would have liked to address was his mask. Erik had promised her a new mask, before she had left, but now he made no mention of it, and it would have been useful for him to wear now, so she could interpret his reactions. But it was a discussion for another time.

"When I got home, I was... I was very sad. I didn't understand anything that had happened, and I was really hurt by you. One second I was standing in front of you, about to tell you that I love you, and then I woke up on a plane. We'll come back to that later, but what you need to know, is that I needed to be comforted, and Raoul came and stayed with me for a few days. He looked after me, like you've been doing here, because he... because he is a very good friend."

Christine paused, as Erik nodded gently. "It wasn't until I went to visit my father's grave that I realised what was happening. That Carlotta was using you. I knew I had to do something, I couldn't let you be used by her. But Raoul, he confessed something to me, before I went fly to New York, to look for you. And he didn't do it in the normal way, he... well, he was overcome with emotions, I can't argue with him for that, but it was still wrong the way he... Erik, he... He kissed me. Raoul told me he loved me and he kissed me."

Christine took Erik's hand, as he remained still, watching their hands as she held them to her chest. "I didn't kiss him back, Erik. I told him that I loved _you_, I told him _all_ about you, but he thinks... Erik, I do love _you_. I do not love Raoul, but he is still very special to me. I miss him, but I am happy that you are here. You're very important to me Erik, but he is too."

Erik pulled his hands away, silent as as clenched his hands into fists, the leather groaning as it tightened against his skin. "I see."

"Erik, please don't be angry, I know you must be with the both of us, as you have every right to be, but it was a mistake, one that has hurt us both deeply. Raoul left, I left for New York shortly after, and I haven't seen him since. Raoul knows that I don't love him, but he doesn't know you're here, he doesn't even know that I left."

"And you wish to stay friendly with him? You _still_ want to continue your friendship with him?" Erik asked, fuming as he flexed his fingers.

"I don't think that I can." Christine answered, lowering her head. "He... Didn't sound as though he would like to continue our friendship any longer. I don't blame him, I hurt him very badly."

Erik looked up quickly. "You do not think so?"

"No." Christine lifted her eyes. "I know that must please you."

Erik winced. "It does, but it displeases me that you are so upset over this. He means a great deal to you, but he has... he kissed you, and you still feel love for him!"

"-I do not love him, Erik!-"

"-But you _do_, Christine. You _do_. How could you not love him?" Erik turned away. "I imagine he must be very handsome."

"It doesn't matter how he looks. Just as it does not matter how you look." Erik's face swiftly met hers, but she ploughed on. "What matters are my feelings. Raoul, he is like any other person, he is passionate and supportive and thoughtful, but you, Erik, you're so much more..." Christine trailed off, pursing her lips as she tried to find the right words.

"_More_...?" Erik asked.

Christine nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're... _more_. There's so much more to you than meets the eyes, you're constantly making me smile, laugh, and cry, and I love the way you treat me. You understand me, you want me to flourish, you want me to be me. Raoul... He's asking me to be something I'm not. I can't love him the way he wants, and I can't be the girlfriend he desires."

Erik looked up, and raised a hand to stroke the back of his fingers along her jaw, wiping away tears that Christine hadn't known she had been shedding. "I believe you, Christine. You would not lie to me. I am disappointed in your young man, but I am not angry. You did no wrong, my dear, you did very well to tell Erik of the boy's... Of Raoul's mishap." Erik's fingers pulled away from his thumb before he could graze her chin. "Thank you, for being honest with me."

Christine grabbed his hand before he could drop it, and asked, "Erik, will you tell me how you feel? Do you believe me when I say I love you?"

Erik took a deep, calming breath, and stood up, smoothing out his clothes. "You know, I believe it is time for your medicine. I shall fetch it-"

"-Erik," Christine whispered, grabbing his jacket sleeve to stop him from leaving. "Please. What can I do you make you see, to make you understand?"

"Nothing, Christine." Erik sighed, staring at the wall in front of him. "I see everything now. The only way to cure you is to confess."

He looked down at her. "Then... then you can decide."

"Decide?" Christine asked, as Erik settled himself back onto the couch. She did not like the aloof, determined way he spoke, as though he was already confident of her opinion.

"Yes, Christine. You must decide. Once I have told you, of everything, from the very beginning, then you may decide, who you prefer. Raoul, or Erik!"

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	77. Chapter 77

_**Pink's "****Run"**_

_Remember make believe in you_  
_All the things I said I'd do_  
_I wouldn't hurt you, like the world did me_  
_Keep you safe, I'd keep you sweet_  
_Everything that I went through,_  
_I'm grateful you won't have to do_  
_I know that you will have to fall_  
_I can't hide you from it all_

_But take the best of what I've got_  
_And you know no matter what_  
_Before you walk away, you know you can_  
_Run, run, run,_  
_Back to my arms, back to my arms_  
_Run, run, run, back to my arms and they will hold you down_  
_Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh, oh oh [x4]_

_See, here's the bloody, bloody truth_  
_You will hurt and you will lose_  
_I've got scars you won't believe_  
_Wear them proudly on my sleeve_  
_I hope you'll have the sense to know_  
_That sadness comes and sadness goes_  
_Love so hard and play life loud_  
_It's the only thing to give a damn about_

* * *

Erik had been very pleased with the way that Christine had been recovering. She had responded to his antibiotics quite nicely, and he was delighted to see that Christine no longer had any qualms about taking her medication, though she did frown a lot and complain about the smell or taste. Erik always made sure he held her hand when she took it, as it made her smile, and say sweet things to him. She did not smile though, when he told her that he would not sleep in her bed again. Erik had been mortified to think that she wished to sleep beside him still, but she argued that they had slept together in her bed and that nothing had bad had happened. How little she knew. How little she _really_ did know. Christine believed him to be a saint, to be wholly virtuous, with only one or two flaws, but Erik was not the angel that she had dreamed him to be. There were truths and secrets and lies, all of them threatened to tangle Erik up if he was not careful. As each day passed, Erik knew that Christine was recuperating, and then the dream would be shattered. Erik just wanted to go on, and on. Just living in her apartment, cooking for her, holding her hand and relaxing on the couch, it was all wonderful. Christine never refused him anything. She let him say the words that made his soul quake whenever he spoke them, and she would sigh, a tired smile on her lips as she listened to his pledge. He told them her to remind her, to make sure she would not forget, but whenever she thought he couldn't see her, those smiles disappeared, and she looked more and more anxious. Erik had stopped telling her those words. It seemed only to upset her, but she never let it show in front of him. As the days past, it seemed that Christine too was restless for their mutual discussion of recent events.

Christine had been the one to begin their conversation, as he had believed she would, and Erik had been conflicted. Only moments before, they had been laughing and smiling at one of Erik's tricks. He had made it seem as though her cat was talking to her, and he had been uncertain as to how Christine would respond. Nadir often found his trick annoying, but Christine would not have seen it that way. Erik was so unsure though, the last time Erik had seen his mother had been after he had used his ventriloquism on her to make her stay. It had been a foolish attempt, a wasteful endeavor to make her stay beside him. Erik could still see the look of horrified betrayal in her eyes as she fled from her house, her doll thrown to the floor, only to return to collect her things. Erik had not stopped her, as much as he would have liked to. She deserved a life away from him, and he had given it to her. At least, in those weeks that he had her, she had been happy. Christine had heard his disembodied voice, and trembled like a leaf as she sat beside him, evidently unaware that Erik was only trying to play with her. She had looked up at him, looking very troubled as she meekly tried to ask him if he had heard the same thing as her, and Erik had taken her hand in distress, apologizing. It was stupid of him to do it, but she had looked so subdued and docile, he had missed the easy way she used to smile at him. He had only been teasing her, but once she found out that it was Erik that was talking, and not Paul, she was spellbound, captivated as Erik gleefully started to demonstrate his talent by making various objects from around her living room talk back to her. Christine had been completely mesmerized, holding onto his hand as she had actual conversations with toys and characters that Erik had made up. Erik had watched her, a smile on his face, thinking how lucky he was to have found such a playful, warmhearted woman. She took delight in the strangest of things, as though everything was perfect, as though it all would never end and there never a thing wrong. As thought nothing could upset her. Was there a chance that Christine would understand, everything that had happened to him? Would she feel pity, or compassion?

Christine complemented him on his skills, saying that they should not have been wasted on her, and Erik had withdrawn himself from her, unwilling to be reminded of what his expertise had done for him in the past. They had always been used, manipulated for the purposes of others. It was his unfair lot in life, that Erik could have nothing for himself. Christine, having sensed that they had approached the subject of his past, insisted on telling him first what she had to say. Erik had told her that he did not want to hear them, that her secrets, whatever they were, did not matter, as it was his own secrets that he was hiding from. She asked him to listen, as though she thought he wouldn't, and Erik had discovered that Christine's secret was just as deadly as his own. She spoke of how she had found herself on the plane, confused and betrayed by him, but Christine moved past that part, promising to discuss it with him further at a later point, and told him of what had happened, between herself and Raoul.

Raoul... Had _kissed_ her. Raoul had dared to press his lips to hers, and had finally confessed his love to her. Raoul had done what Erik had only imagined in his head. It was not hard to imagine kissing Christine. Not when he still had the memory of her kisses against his mask to fuel his imagination. Christine had made it sound so innocent, as though it was all a mistake, but Erik knew quite well what the boy had been trying to do. Raoul had thought that he could take advantage of Chrisitne's vulnerable state, and endear himself to her exposed heart in a more intimate fashion. Erik could see it all in his head, as though he had been there, watching in agony. Raoul would have been gentle with her, touching her face, holding her close to him, his arm around her waist, and Christine would have welcomed such attentions, closing her eyes as she sighed, touching his face as well. The impudent boy had taken the one pleasure, the one right of life that Erik had been denied, from Christine's lips. Still, Christine swore, she loved Erik! That he was important to her, that it had just been a terrible mistake, but Erik could only think about the softness of Christine's lips, the way she had pressed them to the mask's lips so ardently in the botanical gardens, and how Raoul now knew how they tasted. Erik had no chance now, Christine would never pick poor, broken Erik over handsome, whole Raoul. Why would any woman in her right sense of mind pick an ugly, evil, monster, over a handsome, good man? Her words, while sweet, were just words that she used to placate him, to keep him calm. Christine was still afraid of him, she still believed him to be a monster that would lash out at her, that would hurt her. Erik had closed his eyes at one point, biting hard on his stretched lips as the voices in his head grew louder, screaming at him as they demanded Raoul's head on a platter, Christine's lips against his, and for him to run. Erik was so very foolish for believing that Christine would have seen something different in him.

_Why, Christine? Why could we not just pretend? Why did we have to do this? It would have been a beautiful masquerade, if you were to have picked me. God, what a cruel trickster you are. You made me believe, you made me think I could have her! I promised to be good, I promised! And now he has kissed her! He has kissed her, and I cannot._

Christine said she did not blame the boy for kissing her, for admitting his love, and Erik could not understand how she could feel that way. The boy had taken liberties with her, and yet she spoke of him as though he was a saint! Erik would have laughed at the irony, but as Erik looked at Christine, he could see the sincerity in her watery eyes. She was clutching onto him, as hard as she could, perhaps thinking that he would leave if she released him, and Erik felt warmed by that thought. Christine had suffered so much, all for him, and because of him, but now, she was asking for his forgiveness! As if he had any right to give it, it was Erik that needed her forgiveness, but _Raoul_ would have benefitted from his mercy and forgiveness, if Erik felt inclined to give it. Christine did not seem assuaged by his words, when Erik finally spoke. She seemed only to get herself more worked up, trying to calm him, trying to make him see sense, but Erik was not angry, as she believed. Erik was surprisingly calm.

It was obvious now, what was best for Christine. As enjoyable as the past few days had been in Christine's presence, it was all very clear how Erik should proceed. He could not lie to her anymore. It was a cruel illusion, to let her think that Erik was the better man, the _right_ man to hold onto her heart. Erik had to cure her of her madness, of her belief that Erik deserved her love, that he was a better match for her than Raoul. Raoul was the evident choice for her. He would have been able to give Christine everything she could desire. Erik could only offer her his soul, and his voice. Erik had tricked her with his offers of tribute. He had promised to raise her voice to the heavens, he promised her that she would be safe with him, but Raoul had shown beautiful, naive Christine, a life that Erik could not give her. A life that led to marriage, to children, a life that so many took for granted, and it was something that Christine would eventually want. Christine would grow bored with him, she would not want a faux relationship with a creature that could only admire her from afar.

So it was decided. Christine would listen to his story, and then, she would leave him forever. Erik hadn't realised how soul-shattering those words were. He had never known such devastation, such havoc in his life. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, and they only thing that challenged it were the thoughts that rattled in his head like a cage. It was a tragedy, that Erik had to let the charade of a normal life come to an end, but it was for the best. Christine had stared at him in confusion as Erik announced his intentions, but Christine didn't seem to understand, she looked as though his words made no sense, but bid him to sit beside her, asking him what he meant. She repeated her earlier words, that she did not love Raoul, that she thought of him as a brother, as a companion, but never a lover, and Erik had smiled, sniffing as he mournfully patted her hand.

"Erik, I'm serious, I don't love him. I love you, and that kiss meant nothing."

"I've told you, Christine. I believe you. But when you hear of Erik's tale, you will want to take back those words. You will not love Erik when you hear of what he must tell you." Erik whispered. "Do you need anything before I start? I could make you some tea, or perhaps-"

"No, thank you. I..." Christine's eyes softened. "We don't have to do this, you know. Whatever it is, that you feel you have to tell me, it can always wait."

"No, Christine. You must hear it." Erik said softly, holding one of her hands with both of his. They were very soft, and there was no resistance to his hard, gloved hands as he held them. "It is an unhappy story, but if I remember correctly, Grimm's original fairy tales were also quite horrific. And they were intended for children. My story is not a fairy tale, but it does begin that way."

Erik paused, to stroke the back of Christine's hand, that lay on top of his. He sighed as the way she stared at him, full of curiosity, but concerned trepidation. "I was born in Boscherville, France in-"

"Erik," Christine laughed, startling him into silence. "Do we really need to start there?"

"No, perhaps not." Erik mused. He sniffed again, and continued, "My mother was born-"

"No, Erik-" Christine laughed again, squeezing Erik's hand as she bowed her head. Erik watched her, confused as she lifted her head, her eyes closed, and said, "Go on."

Erik smiled, and squeezed her hand back. "My mother was born in Boscherville, France, and she was very beautiful. She met my father, an astrologer, who told her that he had predicted their coming together."

"That's very romantic." Christine sighed, smiling.

"Perhaps. She did not believe him, but she loved him still. They were very happy together, until they married. He died in a car crash, or some kind of accident, while she was pregnant with me. I am unsure of the details, my mother never spoke of him very often, apart from when she drank. She gave birth to me six months later, and... She was disappointed, as any young mother would be, to find she had birthed a creature such as I. She kept me in the attic, gave me my first mask, and made sure I was never seen by anyone apart from Father Hurran. And I believe that he only endured our company because my mother's side of the family were prominent figures in the Catholic Church, though he was still far kinder to me than he should have been. When my mother left, he took me in, he tried to get me to socialize with the other orphans he looked after, but I knew that I did not belong there. I didn't belong anywhere. The children could see it too, and they shunned me. I was a young man, perhaps in my early teens when I decided to leave Boscherville. By that point, I was already smarter than most of the people there, and it did not frighten me to think I would be alone. It was rather exciting, but I could not forget for a moment what I was truly was."

Erik took another deep breath. "So I hid everything in the house that I wanted to save, and burned the rest, along with the house itself. I would not live there again. I started to travel around Europe, sleeping during the day where no-one could see me, moving during the night. I survived by pickpocketing drunk tourists, though I gave this up after I learnt how to lockpick. It's much easier to acquire food and necessities when there aren't people around to stare at you, I found. It seemed though, that people were aware of my existence. I had not been as invisible as I had believed. They had seen me at night, hiding out the outside of their towns, sneaking into their libraries, and of course, rumors flew of a masked man roaming the wild. I only wanted to learn, to exist, but people are often quite distrusting of a person whose face they cannot see."

Christine smiled, and bowed her head slightly. "Apart from me."

Erik smiled, and nodded. "Apart from you. I managed to do quite well by myself. I managed to put on shows, to make some extra money. I sang, I performed tricks, and played the violin. I was very arrogant in my youth, I thought that no-one would bother to pay any real attention to a masked man. I taught myself many skills, and after a few years, I managed to find myself in Russia, which is where Nadir found me."

Christine fidgeted in her seat, and Erik wondered if it was because she had remembered Nadir's point of view from henceforth. She seemed very interested though, and not too disturbed by what Erik had told her, though she had squeezed his hand a few times.

"Nadir was very... Influential, over the next few years. He escorted me to Iran, where he promised that my skills would be put to good use. I do not think even he understood what was about to happen."

"You said he was a Daroga." Christine said softly. "A chief of police, right?"

"Yes. He was... He was that." Erik answered. "I was quite ill when he found me, and when I next awoke, it had been to discover that I was in a cell in Iran. I remember it being very dark, and wet, and cold. I hated it. To try and die in one cave, to wake up in another. Nadir told me that his government had been looking for me for some time. He praised my skills, he offered me wealth and fortune, he did everything he could to get me to stay in Iran, but it wasn't as if I had a choice. I was their prisoner. I was not there for any reason other than to amuse them and work for them. Nadir was appointed to be my personal guard, a role that shamed him, I'm sure, having once been a very important offical."

Christine's face flinched. "Work for them? As what?"

Erik closed his eyes. "I was many things to them. What you must understand, is that I did them, and that I did not want to. I... I tried not to, but they had ways of controlling me."

"How?" Christine asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I was fed morphine until I submitted to their demands. After some time, it got to the point where they no longer had to force me to take the drugs, they had to hold me back from snatching it out of their hands."

Christine eyes widened, and she sat upright. "They... _Why_? Why would they _do_ that? What were they trying to make you do?"

Erik groaned. "They wanted my knowledge of death."

"Knowledge of death?" Christine questioned, holding her breath.

"Yes, Christine. Do you remember that I said that I specialized in toxicology and pharmacology. Do you know what those words mean?"

"Um..." Christine stammered. "That's like, toxins and pharmaceuticals, right?"

"Yes, though, pharmaceuticals might not be the right word. A more accurate way of describing my work would be the study of drugs and its effect upon the human body."

Christine blinked, her chest heaving slightly as she stared at him. "What are you saying? I-I don't understand."

Erik sniffed, and squeezed her fingers. "Christine, please, -"

"What did they make you do?" She asked, her eyes becoming wide. "Did they hurt you?"

Erik huckled miserably. "Yes. Yes, they were quite fond of hurting me, Christine. I was a useful plaything that wasn't human, to them. If I didn't obey, they punished me. If I did, they thought I was trying to find a way to escape, and they'd punish me. I would have suffered much more at the hands of the soldiers who guarded my prison block had it not been for Nadir's continual presence. I daresay I would have died long long without his presence."

Christine made fretful noises, rubbing Eril's hands as he tried to go on, but it was getting harder and harder with each second that Christine carried on comforting him.

"Erik, why were you there? You said, they wanted your knowledge of death, but what does that even mean?"

"I..." Erik hung his head. "I was their assassin, their torturer, their master chemist. I _killed_ for them. I showed them many things, many ways to kill a man without touching him. I had learnt so much in my wanderings, there are so many things on this planet, that when seen with a new eye, can provide endless possiblities. One person might look at a piece of rope and think nothing of it. I could tell you how to kill a man with it in seven different ways. I discovered them all, I learnt how to bend the mind of my fellow man, to make them kneel at my feet to beg for mercy. There was not a person alive that could beat me in a knife fight. My hands, Christine, have strangled the throats of murderers and rapists, yet until you, they had never touched upon any skin without trying to break it. The Generals, they saw how knowledgeable I was, and made me teach their soldiers. I made them serums, poisons, and still they were not happy. They wanted more, they wanted everything inside my head, but the longer I spent there, the more they could not control me. They made me give classes on death. I had students, who I taught how to to kill, to torture, to maim and destroy. I gave demonstrations of my skills, and built them rooms of death, each one crafted after things that frightened me. Rooms of mirrors, and rooms that would send a man insane. They were my torture chambers, they called it, and in those chambers, I was instructed to kill."

Erik pulled his hands away from Christine, and buried his mask in the gloved material. "I did not want to, Christine. I wanted to _die_. I _tried_ to, I did, but the morphine, it was so sweet to me. It let me dream of better things, it let me forget everything, and I _wanted_ to forget. Nadir suffered too, during that time. His sick wife was at home, waiting for him to return, and he was being forced to hound my every step, to assist in my creations. He saw for himself the horrors that his government could do, and he started to wean me off of the morphine, promising me freedom. He told me that no human ought to be treated as such. He told me that if I helped save his wife, then he would free me, and I readily agreed, but when the time came, it was too late. She was dead."

Erik lifted his head, to look at Christine, and found her staring blankly ahead of her, her face troubled as she sat, breathing harshly as though she was trying to hold back tears. Erik's hands twitched, and she reached out for her face. He pressed his fingertips to her cheeks, but she did not react.

"Christine, _forgive_ me. I would _never_ hurt _you_. I would not let anything happen to you. I'd keep you safe, I'd look after you. Please, _please_ look at me."

Christine slowly turned her head, and whispered, "You've... You've killed people."

Erik held his breath, waiting for her to speak again. Her voice was so quiet and airy, it sounded so disjointed from her body, as though she was very distant and far away.

"You've... _Murdered_-" Christine cried, and hid her face from him, taking long, shallow breaths as tears escaped her eyes.

"Christine, _Christine_." Erik whimpered, taking her limp hands away from her face, but she turned her head away from him. "Please, Christine, _love_ me. You know the truth of your Erik, for he loves you so. I would make you happy, I would give you everything if only you would only love me. _Truly_ love me. _Please_, Christine, I know I do not deserve your love, I am only an ant at your feet, waiting to be squashed. I am a man consumed by demons and delusional fantasies, but without your love, I could not go on. I know I am not a man to be admired, and you can see it now, can't you? Why I cannot stay, why I must leave and why you must choose Raoul-"

Christine's head whipped around so fast, as she stared at him icily. "_Raoul_? Raoul has nothing to do with this! You keep trying to push me towards him, away from you, and Raoul is trying to do the same thing, and it's all pointless! None of you care about my feelings. None of you really understand how I feel!"

Christine tore her hands away from Erik, making him yelp as she angrily brushed away her tears. "I can't just... _Ignore _what my heart is telling me. But..." She sighed, closing her eyes. "But I can't ignore that you... That you've _killed_ in the past. _Actual_ people."

"They were prisoners!" Erik told her desperately. "They were already about to be killed by the death squad, but they gave them to me to-"

"_Stop_!" Christine moaned, sucking on her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut. "_Please_."

She stood up, her eyes still shut as she curled her hands into fists. "I... I need time. I need time to _think_. I... I..."

Christine took several deep breaths, and Erik stood up, taking her shoulders as he looked down at her ."Christine... What do I do? _Tell me what to do!_"

Christine pushed Erik's hands away. "I... I... I don't _know_!"

"Do you want Erik to leave?" Erik grieved, feeling every word dig into his skin as though they were tiny daggers, poised to kill him at any second.

"_No_!" Christine cried, grabbing fistfuls of Erik's sleeve desperately. "Please, I... I don't know. Don't leave. Please, don't leave me alone."

"Christine, I will leave only when you ask me to." Erik told her solemnly. "But I cannot stay here and watch you cry because of me."

Christine looked up at her, her matted eyelashes fluttering as more tears came to her eyes. "I... I..."

Erik took her face within his hands. "You needed to know. I couldn't let you go on thinking that I was a good man."

Christine's eyes closed. "I know. I know." She pulled his hands away. "I need _time_. Just to process everything."

"Then tell me, Christine. What do I do? How do I fix this? How do make you love me again?"

"I don't know, Erik! I don't have the answers! I don't know what to do and I'm so confused and it's like this is all a dream, as though none of this is really happening and I don't know what _is_ happening to me anymore. It all just keeps piling on, just more and more, it'll never stop! We'll never have peace!"

Christine turned, and went to hide in her room, shutting the door behind her as Erik stared after her wide eyed as he collapsed onto the couch. He stared blankly at Christine's door and listened to her muffled sobs. He stared around him numbly, waiting for any thought to cross his mind, but the only thing he could think of, was that it had all started because he had been trying to make Christine happy, with his voice. He had tried to make her stay, and like his mother, once she had been broken of the illusion, she had fled from him.

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	78. Chapter 78

_**Blindside's**__**"Our Love Saves Us"**_

_Don't you worry it's fine_  
_Your hand's not letting go of mine_  
_If worse comes to worse_  
_I'll hold tight even if it hurts_

_And now the ground is shaking_  
_It's trying to tear us down_  
_But we won't be forsaken_  
_Because we know what we've found_

_Our love saves us_  
_The river runs deep but our spirits grow tall_  
_Our love saves us now_  
_We jump from stone to stone_  
_but you know we won't fall_

_Do you remember that promise?_  
_Remember when it was new_  
_How deep into you I fell_  
_I believed in us then and I still do_  
_But now the ground is shaking_  
_and we know what we found_

* * *

Christine had forgotten how cruel the real world could be. How twisted people could get, how demanding they could be, and how unfortunate some people really had it. Over the last few days, Christine had been caught up in her own little world, but now, having heard Erik talk of his past, to admit to her what he had done, it scared her. Christine had always known that Erik was a bruised man, whose soul had suffered at the hands of other men, but she had never thought that others would have suffered at _his_ hands. His hands that had touched her with such gentle grace, his fingers winding through her hair, tickling her sides, he had always been so careful with her, as though she would crumble, and the thought that had crossed her mind as she knelt before her bed, was that maybe he had treated her gently because she _could_ break beneath him. Christine knew that Erik could strike out, Erik had spoken of torture, poisons, of drugs and of students. Erik had taught people how to kill, and had killed himself, and it had all become too much for Christine. She had gone to hide in her bedroom, clamoring for peace and quiet, but now that she had it, she was all alone with her thoughts and the reality of the situation sank in. She had left Erik in the living room, hurt and confused as she wished for something to take her away, for someone to tell her that it all wasn't true. Christine had not imagined Erik's past to be so intimidating.

It made her blood run cold, to remember the way his voice had sounded. It had been so weak, so forlorn as every word struck terror in her, but filled with what Christine knew to be unhappiness. Erik had told her that he did not want to kill those men, and that he had been forced to by those who had controlled him through the use of morphine, but it still chilled her to the bone to think that people had died because of him. That there were people who knew how to kill because of him.

How was Christine supposed to accept this? How could she ever understand what Erik had gone through, what Erik had suffered himself? He had lived a very painful life, and Christine wanted to sympathize with him and show him that she still loved him, but they had crossed a bridge that was starting to burn, and the smoke was getting in her eyes. Christine did love him, but their love was forever being tested. First it had been the media, with their intrusion, and then Carlotta, who had nearly won, and then Raoul, who had only been trying to protect her. Were they signs? Signs to stay away from Erik? Raoul had said that Erik was dangerous. Why didn't she listen? Why did she brush away his words as though they meant nothing? Christine wasn't sure if Raoul had meant those words, or if they had been the product of his love for her, but in either case, he had seen something that she had not, as Raoul have only spoken with him for a few minutes. Why had she not seen it?

_Because Erik always said he would never hurt you. You believed him because it's so much easier to believe than to question._ Christine thought, sniffing as she put her back against the bed, drew her knees to her chest and stared at the door. _It's never happened on purpose, it's always been by accident, but he has hurt you. He could easily hurt you, and deep down, you've always known that. If not physically, then emotionally. You're so wound up in him, that you've failed to see that you're vulnerable. That's what comes from getting attached to things. When they hurt you, it hurts deep and strikes the heart true._

_So what do I do? I love him, but I don't know if I'm strong enough to forgive him. This is too much weight on my shoulders, how can I do this? How can I..._

Christine burst out into tears again, and hung her head. She just wanted the earth to crack open and swallow her up. She could hear the sofa in the living groan from under Erik's weight as he shifted about, and Christine stopped, sniffing as she squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but the possibility of being inside Erik's head would have made things worse, Christine wasn't sure what else she wanted to know. She listened as Erik got up from off the sofa, and walked slowly into the kitchen. Christine's heart trembled in her chest, and sent cold shivers down her back, and Erik's name almost escaped her lips.

_I love him. I love a murderer. I love a man who has plotted death and destruction._

Christine took a shuddering breath, her teeth chattering as she hugged herself. It wasn't so black and white as that, though. There was more to it. Erik had been forced, he had been under the influence of drugs, he had been kept in a cell and it had all been against his will. That must have counted for something.

Christine's thoughts became more and more mixed up the longer she sat in silence. She had been crying at first, but Christine had no more tears to give, she had cried for far too long, and her cheeks stayed dry as she tried to think. There were still so many questions. How had Erik gone from murderer to musician? How had he found the will to go on? And had he... Had he hurt Carlotta? Erik had never mentioned how he handled Carlotta. There had been no news about Carlotta's disappearance on TV or in any newspapers, but Erik would have known how to have dispose of a body. He would have known how to make it look as though it was suicide, and with Erik's power and control over everyone around him, he could easily keep the heat off of him. And what about Nadir? Nadir had known all this time what Erik was, and he had never told Christine. He had hidden the truth from her, he had seen them cuddling and holding hands, and he had let it all go on.

_This is hardly the time to be thinking about Nadir!_ Christine argued, gritting her teeth. _But Nadir got Erik out of Iran. He saved Erik. Without Nadir, Erik would still probably be there, working for those guys, if not dead. But what about Carlotta? Where is she? How is she? _Christine's head jerked up in realization. _Is what what she had on him? Did she know about Erik's past? Meg said there was a video, did Carlotta have some video evidence on him? On Iran? No wonder Erik was keen to send me away. What if it was him killing someone? What is on that tape?_

Christine numbly dragged herself into bed, and hid beneath her duvet, closing her eyes as she listened to her deep breathing. It helped to calm her, but she was still on edge as she tried not to think about Erik. He occasionally approached her door, and from what Christine could hear, he would leave something outside her door, but he never knocked, or spoke, and he left her to wade through her thoughts. It was hard to think clearly, it was like she was stuck in sludge, and everything was just sticking to her and blocking her view of everything. Christine wanted to talk to Erik, she wanted to be comforted by him, but the thought of Erik touching her, speaking to her, it was so disorientating, she was thrown off balance by his confession. Christine sometimes felt as though she could walk right out the door and hug him, telling him that everything was fine, and that she still loved him, but then the horrible reminder of the truth would appear and Christine would remember what Erik had told her. She didn't know what to do. At times like this, Christine would have wondered what her father would have said, but even this situation would have stumped him. He would have been at a loss for words. Christine just couldn't imagine how he would respond to this situation. She thought about what he would have said about all of the trials that they had suffered, how he would try to comfort her while she was suffering, and something he had told her, when she and Raoul had argued once, came to mind.

_Storms make trees take deeper roots._

_This is not a storm though, this is a tornado that's whisking me off to Oz! __And he's not here! I am! I'm the one who has to deal with this! _Christine thought angrily._ I can't keep relying on him. For way too long I've been relying on his wisdom to help me, but I need to figure this out for myself. I can't keep hiding behind him as though he can protect me. Erik... He loves me, and he would never intentionally hurt me, but he has hurt others! What do I do? I still love him, but am I in too deep?_

A few times Christine had managed to sit up, and look at the door, wondering what Erik was doing, in the hours that passed. Christine wasn't sure how long she stayed in her room, but it felt like hours. She tried to sleep, but the slowly fading light outside her window and her own thoughts about Erik kept her awake and focused on her thoughts. She returned her thoughts to Erik, a few times, and what he was thinking. He was probably panicking, or freaking out. Her disappearance, it couldn't have been easy on him. She had run from him as though he had the plague, as though at any second he would shake her so hard that her thoughts would just get more muddled up than they already were.

_I'm being so selfish. But don't I have every right to be? Don't I have the right to freak out and panic? Why do I have to be the strong one?_

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had to learn this horrible secret. It wasn't fair that Erik had lived it, and it wasn't fair that Christine felt so flustered.

_I have to talk with him. I can't leave him out there. God only knows what thoughts might enter his head. He might try to leave again._

Christine pushed herself off of the bed, and walked quietly over to the door, pressing her ear to it. She couldn't hear anything. She sighed, and stared down at her hands. Erik had opened his heart to her, and she had made the situation worse by running from him. Erik had told her that she had to decide, between him and Raoul, but there was no contest. It was always going to be Erik, but there was something so very wrong in loving him. Christine knew that she shouldn't, that she should have asked him to leave, tell him never to speak to her again, but everytime she even tried to imagine it, her stomach would clench and she would remember that Erik needed her. Erik had been betrayed and hurt by so many people, all for their own gain. They had used him, as though he was nothing more than a toy, not even a human, who had feelings and thoughts of his own. Who loved her, and had told her that he would leave her if she asked him to.

_I can't let him leave. I can't let it end. I don't want it to end, but I can't deny, it would be safer if it did._ Christine took a deep breath, closing her eyes. _I guess this is love. It tears down walls, it blinds you and yet you crave for more. It's hard and demanding and possessive and controlling, and above all, it is trying.  
_

Christine fingered the door handle, chewing on her lips. _Erik needs me. I have to help him, just as he's helped me. Erik can be a good man. No, he is a good man, he just needs reassurances, he needs to be held and praised, and kissed._

Christine groaned, pulled her hand away from the door handle. _You're daydreaming about kissing him now. Is this really what you want? To kiss him? To forgive everything and just move on, as though all of it never happened?_

_And what if I did? It's not as though Erik had any choice in the matter. This isn't as though he's a serial killer, who actively goes out and searches for victims. Erik's the victim here, he was forced into this life._

Christine stared at the door handle, and wondered what would happen if she opened it. Erik would probably keep his distance, and there was the very real chance that he would either be angry, or upset. There were no sounds to suggest that either was the case, but Christine had no clue what he was thinking. He had learned so much today. Christine had told him about Raoul, of their kiss, and he had reacted very calmly, though there was still a simmering annoyance that lay beneath the surface. He had done so well to control himself around her, to not let his emotions override everything and lash out.

_Erik can control his emotions, I've seen it. He can learn there's easier ways to express himself. He just needs someone to help him. I can do that. I can help him._

Christine took a few more cleansing breaths, slowly opened the door, and looked around her. There was nothing outside her door, as she had expected, and there was no-one in the living room either. Looking over to the kitchen, she could only see a small part of it, and Erik was not in sight. She had almost expected him to come running to the door, but she supposed that he was just trying to be as considerate as possible. Christine stepped out, and rubbed her face to make sure that it was clean of any tears, and went to sit on the sofa. Paul came to join her, emerging from the kitchen as he jumped up onto the sofa, walkig across to sit beside her, and rubbed his face against her thigh. Erik's mask slowly peered around the kitchen doorframe, aimed at her.

"Please sit down." Christine said, watching him from the corner of her eyes, unable to meet his face. Christine berated herself, and put on a smile to reassure Erik, and looked up. "Please. We still have things to talk about."

Erik stepped out silently, watching her as he positioned himself on the other end of the couch. "Have you decided?" He asked, in a cold, emotionless voice.

"You still think I'm going to pick between you and Raoul." Christine said flatly.

"Well, aren't you?"

"No. Asking me to pick one of you is stupid. I can't love Raoul any more than I can love you any less, and you shold stop suggesting it."

Erik's mask moved slightly, to look up at her. "What does that mean?"

"It means-" Christine sighed, closing her eyes as she rubbed her face. "It means that love isn't something that can be controlled or manipulated. You're convinced that I can just walk away from this, but it's not that easy, Erik. Could you do it? Could you force yourself to love someone other than me? Could you even pretend?"

Christine looked up. "It _means_... That I still love you."

Erik stared at her, as quiet as the grave as Christine rubbed her hands together, staring at them intently. "But what of my actions? What about everything I've told you?"

"But it _hasn't_ been everything. We've only started to scratch the surface. And as for your actions... I do not love your actions, I love _you_. I love the man _beneath_ the mask. What they did to you, it was immoral and criminal, pressuring you to do those things. I believe you, when you say that you never wanted to do it. I know what you've done is... It's horrible, but you wouldn't have done them if you hadn't been made to."

Christine looked up. "You've had such a hard life. Everyone has been so barbarous and hard-hearted towards you, and it's made you hostile but I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't hurt you. Just like how you could never hurt me. You put up this big wall to hide yourself from everyone, but what you need is to let people in. To let them see, and understand."

"_Christine_," Erik whispered in a soft breath, his whole body relaxing as his mask hung in the air, turned to look at the space between them. "I meant it, when I said I would never hurt you. I would never do _anything_ to upset you."

"I know." Christine said, and ran a hand through her hair. "I know."

Erik waited a moment, before asking, "Are you afraid of me now, Christine?"

"I _know_ you would never hurt me, but it scares me that you have hurt others." Christine confessed. "I'm not afraid for myself, Erik, I'm afraid for other people." Christine looked up, biting her lower lip. "Did you hurt Carlotta, because of what she had on you? Was that was the evidence was about? Your time in Iran?"

Erik didn't answer at first. He stared at her, taking deep breaths. "I did not hurt her. I... I used my voice on her."

Christine sat up, eyes wide as she quietly asked, "What did you tell her?"

"I told her to stay away from you. I told her to forget. I told her many things to keep you safe, but I did not hurt her. I could not, Christine. Because of you. It is because of _you_ that I do not wish to hurt another human being."

Christine nodded. "I'm glad. I mean, I'm glad you didn't hurt her. It was a good idea to use your voice on her."

"You... You do not mind that I have done that to her?" Erik asked, taken aback.

"Well, I did say that you shouldn't do it to friends, but on Carlotta, it's fine." Christine said, but regretted it instantly. "No, I don't mean that, you shouldn't use it on _anyone_. But it has helped us, here. Just as long as you don't use it on anyone else, then we'll be fine."

"Yes, Christine." Erik nodded, leaning forward ever so slightly.

"So what was it she had on you? What was on the video?" Christine asked. Whatever was on it, it must have had something to do with his time in Iran, it only made sense.

"Do you really want to know?" Erik asked curiously.

"No, I guess not."

They sat in silence, and Christine found herself staring at his gloved hands, that rested in his lap. It did not trouble her to look at them. They were only hands, she told herself. Just four fingers and thumb. It had all started, with his hands, after all. They had caught her on the red carpet, when she had been falling into him. Erik had caught her, and made sure she landed safely on top of him, and while he had snatched them away from her, as though she had been covered in something disgusting, Christine could see that it had only been Erik trying to keep from hurting her. He had been holding onto her very tightly, he must have been afraid that she would cry or something.

"Christine?"

She looked up. "Yes?"

Erik looked away from her face. "I don't have to stay. I'm not saying that you should go to Raoul, but I can still leave. For a few days, if you need more time."

"Would that help either of us?" Christine asked. "We'd both be miserable. And I don't ever want you to leave." Christine reached out, and took Erik's hand. "I want you to stay. We can work through this. What happened to you, it's in the past. You can close that door behind you now. Because I'm going to be here for you. Do you remember me saying that back in New York? I said that I was always going to be there for you, and I will. I'm going to look after you. Just like you're going to look after me, and we're going to look after each other together."

Erik's hand was stiff, but she massaged some life back into them, as she stared wistfully at them. They were capable of doing so many things. They had killed, but they had created as well, hadn't they? Erik had built buildings, composed music, with those very hands that had inspired so many emotions in her. They were thin, but strong, and moved with purpose and clarity, and Christine watched as Erik pulled his hand away, to lay it on top of hers, and rub her knuckles with the same tenderness that he had always shown her.

"Christine. Do you mean it? Do you really mean that you love me? Because if that is true, then I think I might need a minute, myself." Erik said softly, his mask lifting slightly.

Christine laughed, out of relief that the moment had passed, and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I left you here by yourself. I shouldn't have just run like that."

"Oh, Christine, it's perfectly alright. I scared you rather badly. I get so irrational sometimes, I forget myself, but I am trying, Christine. I will be a better man for you."

"You _are_ a better man, Erik. You just need to be shown that. You are good, and generous, and loving, but you've been dealt a harsh card. You've been made to think that you're no good, but you are, when you try. I promise you, Erik, whatever comes our way, I'll help you through it."

Erik made some soft noise beneath his mask, his hand pressed lightly to her and he nodded. "Thank you, Christine."

Erik raised a hand to stroke her cheek, but pulled it away before he could touch her. A few poorly concealed sniffles escaped Erik's mask, as he turned away. "Christine. Do you forgive me? I've tricked you, I have done nothing but keep secrets from you. And there are more secrets that if you still don't know. Secrets about you."

"About me?" Christine asked, releasing Erik's hand. She sighed as turned away herself. She closed her eyes, and in the silence, she could almost imagine that she was alone. "...I don't care."

Erik turned back to face her, to look at her directly as she stared out of the window, and tried to take her shoulders, to make her face him. "Christine..."

"I told you I don't _care_!" Christine asserted, whipping her head around to stare at him. "I don't _care_! Whatever they are, they're nothing to what we've already discussed! What is it you want to tell me? What is it you need to tell me so badly? Would it make our lives better if I knew?"

"No, it would not, but you would think differently of me, and you would not wish-"

"You said that before, and yet here I am, still here, still trying to make it work. Whatever it is, does it affect us now?"

"No... not anymore." Erik answered in a deep voice.

"Then we can leave it in the past, and forget about it. We can start a new relationship now, and we're stronger because of it. There's nothing that can hurt us, not unless we let it."

Christine carefully took the mask's cheek, and turned Erik's head to make him look at her. "I trust you, Erik. I always have. I've never found it difficult to trust you."

Erik placed his hand on tops of her, and sighed. "I will not betray that trust."

"I know." Christine said, smiling.

They stayed quite still for some time, and continued to sit in the darkness as nighttime approached. Erik had carefully pulled her into a gentle embrace, letting her lie her chest against his as he stroked her hair. It was surprising how much it made her feel better, despite knowing what those hands had done. It felt so natural to have Erik comfort her, and it felt very good to have Erik back, but she still felt nervous around him. Christine knew logically that there was no reason to be afraid, no reason for her to worry, but it was difficult not to. It would take some time, but Christine knew that she would no longer feel so shy around him. He admitted his regret, and swore against ever doing anyone any harm, and it was because of her, he had said. They were both very sore and sensitive, still trying to understand what they had both learned of each other, like Erik's hands, but like his hands, they would heal in time.

Now if it was only so easy to reconcile with Raoul.

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	79. Chapter 79

_**Rob Thomas's **__**"Little Wonders"**_

_Let it go,  
Let it roll right off your shoulder  
Don't you know  
The hardest part is over  
Let it in,  
Let your clarity define you  
In the end  
We will only just remember how it feels_

_Our lives are made_  
_In these small hours_  
_These little wonders,_  
_These twists & turns of fate_  
_Time falls away,_  
_But these small hours,_  
_These small hours still remain_

_Let it slide,_  
_Let your troubles fall behind you_  
_Let it shine_  
_Until you feel it all around you_  
_And i don't mind_  
_If it's me you need to turn to_  
_We'll get by,_  
_It's the heart that really matters in the end_

_Our lives are made_  
_In these small hours_  
_These little wonders,_  
_These twists & turns of fate_  
_Time falls away,_  
_But these small hours,_  
_These small hours still remain_

_All of my regret_  
_Will wash away some how_  
_But i can not forget_  
_The way i feel right now_

* * *

Erik had been very lost and confused when Christine retreated into her bedroom, and apart from the occasional muffled crying, there was no sound. It tore at him to have to listen to her piteous moaning, and it made him remember the look of abject horror in her eyes when she learned of his role in Iran. There were so many things that he had not told her about the corrupt officials and the endless days of dreaming of a better life. There were more important things to talk to Christine about, and he had only gotten started when Christine had protested at hearing any more and left. Erik had planned to tell her everything, every secret that he hid from her, about the night he had almost killed Carlotta, about the hidden camera and the shameful way he had touched her, but Christine had been so dismayed when he had only told her the basic outline of his time in Iran that she had left him alone in her living room, asking him to stay, that Erik was terrified that if she heard any more bad news, then not only would she send him way, that she would _hate_ him. It was a scary thought, to see an angry, disappointed Christine, and it was not something that he wished to see, but she deserved the truth, she deserved to know everything, and decide for herself if she wanted to continue on her path with him. Erik had told her that he would would hand in hand with her down her path, but if she wanted to go on alone, then that was her decision.

Christine had stayed in her room for quite a long time, never moving about, and Erik had on several occasions sought to approach her door and knock, but instead, he skulked about in the kitchen, making sure that he could not see her bedroom door. If Christine wanted to come out of her room, then he would give her whatever space she needed. She didn't have to look at him and be reminded of what she had learned. Erik knew better than that. A few times, he had placed a potted plant in front of her door, hoping to cheer her, but he would change his mind, calling himself foolish and move them back, only to attempt the same useless gesture with a different plant. Erik was so troubled. His every thought revolved around Christine, but Erik still found himself thinking about Raoul, whose lips had graced Christine's.

It was an unmerciful cruelty. Only a spiteful God would add more trials to Erik's already chaotic life. It seemed God was not happy with letting Erik have the woman he loved, Erik now had a rival of the surest kind, who would whisk Christine off of her feet with more kisses and take her away from him. Erik couldn't let that happen, but it was out of his hands. If Christine told him that she would prefer to be with Raoul, then there was nothing he could say. Christine had been adamant though, her feelings towards Raoul did not go beyond the love that siblings would share. Erik believed her, but if she asked him to leave, then Erik did not want Christine to be alone. From what she had told him, Raoul had left, and she believed him to no longer want to continue their friendship, which made Erik very happy, but it made Christine unbearably sad. There was so much on Christine's young shoulders, she had already changed so much in the small time that they had spent apart, that it made Erik very fearful.

Erik had been musing his thoughts over in the kitchen, watching Paul clean himself as he thought about Christine. She was so very fragile, the news of his dealings with the Iranian government had been shocking to say the least, certainly not what she had been expecting, and Erik hoped she would come out of her room soon. It was so very strange to be so far away from Christine, while she was awake, yet still occupy the same space as her. When Christine's door creaked, and Erik had looked up in surprise, he had been cowering with the thought of Christine looking at him differently. Erik was afraid that he would no longer see the light in her eyes that had shone whenever she looked at him. He was scared that it would be gone, and that it would be replaced with fear and loathing.

He had poked his head out of the kitchen, before watching Paul take the lead with more bravery that Erik had, and Christine had been sitting on the couch, looking up at him morosely. She had been in her room for hours, nearly the whole day, and Erik did not know what to say to her. She was looking very pale, though her cheeks were flushed, and she held her arms as though she was afraid of falling to pieces and she was just barely keeping things together, but she still managed to give him a weak smile, and beckoned him to sit with her. Erik had done as she asked, walking on egg shells as he sat before her. He was sweating under his mask, a bead or two dropping into his eyes, but he continued to stare at Christine's face. Her eyes were so clear, so resolute, that Erik had known that Christine had made her choice. Christine looked at him, and Erik had found that her determined look was to tell him that she still loved him.

Christine _still_ loved him. Erik had sat in quiet disbelief as she uttered the words with total conviction, and Erik could feel his drooping eyelids fill up with tears as his lips trembled. Christine loved him, and it was beautiful, beyond anything Erik had hoped for, and he wished to take her hands, to press them to the mask's lips, to stroke her hair and repeat those words back to her. Christine was a true saint, she would stay for him forever and forever, she would never leave! Christine fated to be his, she _had_ to be! Christine told him how she understood that his actions were not his own, and how she believed that Erik was, at heart, a good man. How Christine still managed to see the good in him made Erik want to grab her wildly and hug her body to his, but she was still withdrawn and shy around him.

She asked of Carlotta, and if he had hurt her, and Erik had almost let slip of what he had done to the foul little toad. Christine still cared for her, as though the woman earned her pity, and Erik had to disguise the snarl in his voice to tell her that he had only turned his voice on her. Erik knew she would not be happy, she had expressed her distaste for his governing voice, but Christine agreed with him and told him that it had been a good idea to use his voice on her. Christine had even tried to take back her words, telling him that he should use his voice to control anyone, but she admitted that it had helped in this situation. She asked about the video, but she did not pry when Erik tried to dissuade her from the conversation. She did not need to know what was on the video, it would only give her nightmares.

They had sat in silence, and Erik had watched her beautiful face lose some of the glamour it had once held. She still seemed so troubled, so wary of him, and he knew it was because she was thinking of him, and his past. It was a wretched thing, to watch her shiver in front of him. Christine was very spirited when she spoke, jutting her chin out as she looked at him, but in her silence, she was thoughtful and reflective. There was a new look in her eye that seemed to suggest that she was undaunted, but cautious, and Erik didn't know how to help her. It was funny though, she promised to help _him_.

Erik tried to tell her, about the camera, about everything, but she refused to hear him. She had stared at him in desperation, begging him to keep his secrets to himself, and Erik had been so pained to hear her say those words. He was secretly relieved that he could avoid telling her, believing it would only make things worse, but the pain that had been in her voice, it was as though she had given up on ever having a normal life, as though she was resolved to live through her strange new lifestyle.

The next day was hardly any better. Erik had spent the night lying on her couch, one arm over the mask's eyes as Christine slept silently in her room. She had asked him to stay, though Erik had tried to suggest that he could always get a hotel room, but she had shaken her head, telling him there was no need. She argued that Erik didn't need to be alone anymore. Erik felt lonely though, turning on his side to stare at her door. She had told him she loved him, she had meant those words, but she had been so distracted, that Erik wondered if it was better to give her more time. It was selfish of him to admit it, but he didn't want to leave, he wanted to walk straight into her room, grab her shoulders and demand those words to fall from her ruby red lips, but Nadir was right, Christine was in a delicate place. She needed to be treated like spun glass, and given time to cool down. It still excited him though, to think on her words. Christine loved him, she had the strength to say those words, even after everything, she still bound herself to him, and Erik fervently prayed that Christine would learn not to fear him. She told him that she knew he would never hurt her, but Erik longed for the days when Christine had kissed his mask without though, had let him stroke her skin, had instinctively curled up to his side. In New York she glowed, in London she just withered.

The next day, Christine had progressively gotten more and more jumpy around him. Erik could see the effect of his words on her as she continued to groan to herself, deep in thought as she said nothing, getting on with chores in her apartment. Erik had offered to help, but Christine had smiled poorly, handing him his newly cleaned clothes, telling him that doing chores helped her to clear her head, and Erik had reluctantly let her carry on. She told him to relax, to sit down, but Erik had opted for appearing as though he was busy, but he secretly spied on her whenever he could. He had been sitting on her couch, reading some book while she had been tending to her plants, and Erik had closed his book so suddenly that Christine had flinched, her entire body on edge pausing only for a second before carrying on, as nothing had happened. Sometimes, she would look at him, a wistful twist to her lips as he pretended not to notice her. A few times, she gave out a single, heavy breath, as though she had come to a difficult thought that she did not agree with, and it was only until Erik had entered the kitchen, his eyes drawn to Christine's back as she cleaned her dishes, her head tilted to one side as she mumbled to herself that Erik tried to ask her what she was thinking. Christine had been surprised and had dropped her plate, the wet, bubbly plate slipping out from between her finger to smash in her sink. She stared down at it, open mouthed, and sighed, before looking up at him. Erik had apologized, offering to clean the mess for her, but Christine brushed it off, rolling her eyes, which was a great comfort to Erik. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world as Christine began to pick up the shattered pieces. It meant she was slowly on the mend, finding her balance with him. Erik asked her once more, what she had been thinking, and she frowned, pursing her lips comically as she looked at the pieces in her hand.

"I was thinking about you." She said, turning over the largest of the jagged pieces that sat in her cupped hand. "About what you told me."

Erik stood awkwardly, unsure of how to reply. Was it acceptable to discuss this matter? Was there something that he had missed? Did Christine still have more questions?

"It's nothing bad, I'm just, I'm still trying to accept what you've told me, and not freak out at the same time, but it's hard, you know? I'm glad _you_ told me, and not Nadir." She sighed, blowing some hair out of her eyes.

"Not Nadir?" Erik asked quietly.

"Yeah. When we met back in New York, trying to find you, we talked." She fiddled with a smaller chunk of china, staring at her hand. "He knew everything, about this, and he didn't say a word. I want to be annoyed with him for not telling me, but I'm happy he didn't."

"What did Nadir say about me?" Erik asked.

Christine shrugged idly. "He said you're still the same person."

"And what do you think?

"I think that you never changed in the first place. Not in my eyes, at least. I mean, you haven't just suddenly become this other person, you... You've always had this aura of danger about you. I've always known it. It's always been there, just lying under the surface. I never questioned it either. I never wondered what caused you to be so explosive and oversensitive. I mean, I thought it was about the mask, I thought you were afraid of scaring me away, or other people doing that, but I never questioned where that belief came from. I never thought about the reason why you try to hard to keep other people away. You only show what you think other people find acceptable, and you question yourself on the most basic of impulses. It's as though you don't understand what's socially acceptable."

Christine looked up at him. "You're scared that they won't accept you. You're afraid that no-one can understand you and that they'll shun you, and you'll be on your own once more. I'm not saying that I'm ignoring your past, I'm saying that I understand it. It's just that now, I can see where it all comes from. I feel better for knowing, it's just another piece of you that needed to be discovered."

Erik sucked on his teeth, curling his lip. "It has kept me safe in the past, to close myself off to the world. The world is not interested in me, but what I hide."

"So if you hide your past, then does that make it interesting?" Christine asked, tilting her head to one side.

"No, Christine. That makes it personal." Erik lightly chided, stepping forward to take the china fragments from her hands.

Christine nodded in agreement, humming. Erik listened to the sound, pleased by the quality and strength he heard in it, and told her, "So that is what you were thinking about?"

"Partially. I was wondering how you became a musician. I imagine the transition must have been trying."

Erik shrugged, opening the bin to tip his hand into it, to let the sharp pieces fall in. "Nadir is to blame for that. I have been musical all my life, but it wasn't until Nadir that I seriously considered a future with it. Before, music had been a way to express myself, a friend that I could confide in, who loved me without a thought, a tangible and free thing that could soar much higher than I ever could. You see, in my cell, it was very dark, and confining. The music, it made it all seem as though it wasn't real. I was a character, waiting for the scene to change. I could see the music, in the dark, as though it was really there, beckoning me. The darkness can be so friendly, so peaceful. At night, I was free of their games, I could be alone. The music, it was cleansed by the darkness, all sounds were welcome in the opera in my mind, in those distilled night, it became the music of the night."

Erik had lost himself in thought, remembering the cold night that turned to dazzling day because of the music he dreamt of. In the darkness, his already heightened senses had made his music more powerful, the thick black blanket that was night had given form to his music. His imagination had unfurled, like a flower trying to catch the last rays of light before sunset, and he had worshipped the darkness, hating the moonlight for bringing light in the darkness.

Christine's hand carefully took Erik's, drawing him out of his clear memory. He looked down at their hand as it hung between them, and sighed. She was looking up at him sadly, and carefully, Christine rested her cheek against his arm, encompassing it with her arms as she held it close to her body, stilling holding onto his hand as she pinched his shirt with her other hand.

"Nadir and I discussed the possibility of a life outside of Iran. It was something we dreamt about, but never seriously considered. Or, at least, it was something that _I_ never took seriously. Nadir made it very clear that he wanted the best health care for his wife, Amira. She was very sick, you see, dying of tuberculosis, but none of the usual medicines were working for her, and Nadir was desperate to find better doctors, but he could not do it alone. He needed money, and lots of it, to ensure his wife's continued health. I offered to take a look at her, as a way of saying thanks for ridding me of the addiction to morphine, and he gratefully accepted. One night, Nadir let me out of my cell, for the other guards wouldn't approach my cell at night and Nadir was the only one who could stand to get close enough, and we escaped. Nadir managed to procure us some transport. He had to drive the whole way there, I remember being terrified."

"Scared about what was going to happen?"

Erik laughed., "No, I was scared that Nadir was going to kill us. I'd never been in a car before."

Christine narrowed her eyebrows, smiling awkwardly. "You've never been in a car? But how did Nadir get you to Iran? There must have been times when you'd gotten into a car and driven somewhere."

Erik shook his head. "I don't remember the journey from Russia to Iran, I was quite sick, and I believe you require a driving license to drive."

Christine grinned. "You don't know how to drive?" She sucked on her lips, before answering, "I don't know either. It's too expensive, and it's just easier to get public transport."

"I wouldn't know. I have my limousine." Erik teased.

"So Nadir drove you to his wife's house? Was it far?"

"About a day's drive. It should have taken longer, but Nadir drove like there were dogs on our trail. I wouldn't have been surprised if there were, though we were careful not to leave any trace of our presence behind, though as you know, that did not according to plan. We arrived, but it was too late."

Erik looked down at their hands again. She squeezed his digits, and Erik wondered what Christine was thinking. Erik could only think of the blood, spoiling Amira's dead body, her nightgown soiled by the splotchy puddles as she lay in her bed. Erik had turned away, repulsed by the sight, but Nadir had cradled his dead wife's body, resting her limp head on his shoulder as he moved to sit her in his lap as he sat on the edge of his bed. He wept into her hair, kissing her bloodied lips over and over, before whispering something in her ear. Erik had chosen to wait outside, wondering what would happen, but Nadir had come out, walking straight to the jeep he had stolen for them, carrying out a few bags of personal belongings, and sat in the driver's seat, his hands on either side of the wheel as he stared straight ahead. Erik had watched him, glued to his spot, until Nadir's dark eyes had met his, compelling Erik to climb into the car.

"Poor Nadir." Christine murmured, looking down at their hands too. "I knew that he had a wife, and that she had died, but that's so sad."

"Yes, it was very sad." Erik agreed. "Nadir still wanted to leave, and he announced himself my manager. It was an agreeable arrangement. I would write, and Nadir would sell it. I still remember the first time Nadir had given me my first paycheck. Over time, once people heard my music, and recognized it for the marvel it is, people insisted on meeting me. When I refused, people became curious, fascinated and then obsessed."

Christine nodded, her cheek rubbing hard against his arm. "Is that when you made to make your mask? The one you're wearing now."

"Yes." Erik said. "I made it myself, when accusations of my existence started to emerge. I escorted Nadir to an album release, one of mine, I think, and it was one of the worst disasters that I've ever seen."

Christine smiled lazily. "What happened?"

"Well, I scared everyone, for starters, no-one expected me to turn up in a mask." Erik chuckled, remembering the shocked expressions of the guest's faces. "I had the social graces of a rock, and believe me, I made for much worse company in those days."

"How old were you?"

Erik made a noise to show his uncertainty as Christine grinned. "Late twenties, possibly. I made one woman faint when I spoke to her. I was so nervous, I'd never stood beside a beautiful woman who wanted to talk back to me. I was excited, it was the chance to pretend that nothing was wrong with me, and it showed, and Nadir was very embarrassed, I think when I stepped over her body and went to hide. After that, people weren't so keen to talk to me. They saw how awkward and irritable and scary I could be. I didn't wanted to be feared. I wanted to be admired. I wanted people to hear my music, I want to show them the beauty that the world offered, I want to make them all see that the music was all that mattered, that it didn't matter who wrote them, as long as they all _listened_ to it. Really listened. In those days, I was arrogant, I believed my music was the greatest work to have ever existed. I was wrong."

Christine looked up, puzzled. Erik smiled, and squeezed her hands. "My music was nothing, without a voice to sing for it. I once thought that it was my voice that could only do it justice, but I think now, it's your voice that is supposed to carry on my work."

Christine stared up at him, her lips slightly parted as she thought about his words. Erik nervously experimented with squeezing her hand. She still staring up at him, her chest rising and falling gently with every breath she took, and Erik waited patiently. She would say something eventually. Erik understood if she was not up the thought of singing, a lot had happened since she had promised him her voice. Erik did not want to pressure her into making a potentially damaging arrangement, but Erik thought he would die if he did not get to hear her sing. Erik would have been happy to hear her sing some TV advert jingle, he just needed to hear her voice, to satisfy his soul.

Christine bit her lip, then released it, blinking as she stared up at him. "Do you really think so?"

Erik had nodded eagerly, making sure to _gently_ squeeze her hand. "Yes, Yes, Chrisitne. Do you doubt yourself? I could have you singing in the Royal Opera house by Christmas."

Christine pulled a doubtful face. "But that's three months away."

"And?" Erik asked, confused.

"Erik, I haven't sung in over five years, I'd need training, and I know you're a brilliant musician, but that's not possible. I couldn't be ready by then."

"Why not? If you trained everyday, for three hours, let's say, then theorectically with my music plan you would be ready by New Year's eve-"

"Are you... Are you seriously suggesting that we do this?" Christine asked, furrowing her brow.

Erik paused. Everything had been going so well, she had sounded open to the idea, but now she just sounded as though it was all a fairy tale that he had spun for her. Erik tried not to let his disappointment show.

"Only if you wanted to. I was just saying that it's possible." Erik answered, looking back down at her white hand, surrounding his black, leathery digits.

Christine's features relaxed. "You want me to sing." Christine said, matter-of-factly.

Erik held his breath. "I do. I would do anything to hear you sing. Even for a moment. I feel like I have been waiting for you my entire life, to sing my songs. I dreamt of you. I dreamt of you singing on a stage, singing just for me, and I watched you. I would be very happy if I saw it happen in real life."

Christine's gaze lowered. "I did say I would sing for you."

Christine looked very grave as she pinched the material of Erik's gloves between her fingers. It made Erik feel very warm, as though she was slowly becoming herself again. Christine still looked very grave, but there was a warmth there that Erik supposed angels often felt when passing through graveyards. She looked up, nervously, a question on her lips, though she was hesitant to ask it.

"What is it Christine, what troubles you?" Erik asked, tilting his head down to look at her.

"Would you..." Christine paused, looking at her feet. "Would you do me a favour, if I sang for you?"

Erik scoffed. "Certainly not."

Christine's looked up, surprised. "But why?"

"Music is for pleasure, not for gain. I will grant you your favour whatever you ask of me." Erik answered.

Christine nodded ever so slightly to herself, and held onto him tightly as she asked, "Then would you allow me to see your face?"

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	80. Chapter 80

_**Muse's **__**"Undisclosed Desires"**_

_I know you've suffered  
But I don't want you to hide  
It's cold and loveless  
I won't let you be denied_

_Soothing_  
_I'll make you feel pure_  
_Trust me_  
_You can be sure_

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
_I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask_  
_I want to exorcise the demons from your past_  
_I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_

_You trick your lovers_  
_That you're wicked and divine_  
_You may be a sinner_  
_But your innocence is mine_

_Please me_  
_Show me how it's done_  
_Tease me_  
_You are the one_

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
_I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask_  
_I want to exorcise the demons from your past_  
_I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_

_Please me_  
_Show me how it's done_  
_Trust me_  
_You are the one_

* * *

Christine had hardly slept the night before, but her mind was as clear as crystal the following day. She had told Erik to take a break, that he could do as he wished while she worked. He reluctantly agreed, sounding very concerned, and Christine had set about working her thoughts out through manual labour. There was something about letting her hands and feet think for themselves, whether it was just dusting the shelves or cleaning the kitchen, and it was like being on auto-pilot while her mind worked by itself in the background. She was thinking about Erik, and just how much he had gone through. There was something so brutal and primitive about the way Erik had been treated all of his life, and Christine wanted to show him that his past was not who he was, that he could be loved, that Erik was a man who _deserved_ love. It was difficult though, to think, when she was constantly aware of Erik's presence. Before, it had been a welcome notion, to be able to feel him near her, as though he was protecting her from anything that could hurt her, but now it felt different. Like he was guarding her, watching her, instead of watching over her. Christine had never thought her flat to be small, but now it felt like it had been made smaller by Erik's dominating figure. Christine was not opposed to being in the same room as him, but it felt as though the space between them had created a buffer that neither of them wanted. They hardly spoke, as Christine carried on with her housework, but she did desperately want to speak with him. She wanted their troubles to be over, but Christine still had much to go over in her mind, it was impossible to just move past it all in a day. She needed time, but she needed him too.

On several occasions, Christine had been aware of Erik watching her when he thought she couldn't see him. When Christine had been refilling Paul's water bowl, Erik had been pretending to look at the things that were on her fridge, held up by magnets. When Christine had been going through her mail, Erik's mask had been facing the television as he sat on the sofa, butwhe she tore open one of her letters, the mask had turned an inch slightly towards her, and Christine had would have missed it had there not been light hitting his mask which drew her eye. Since having learned of Erik's past, the mask seemed to take on a more disturbing demeanor. It actually sent shivers down her spine, the way it moved about, its dead eyes unfocused and unseeing. She knew it was Erik beneath the mask, but it was creeping her out, which she felt bad about, but she couldn't stop herself from feeling a small amount of dread. Erik was on pins and needles too, looking quite antsy, as though he was expecting something to jump out at him and scare him. They were both quite high-strung, but there was nothing they could do. Things would settle soon, but in Christine's opinion, the moment couldn't come soon enough. It was ridiculous, she had always known that there had been something dark about Erik, something different, something unique, but now, she knew what it was. It was a thought she often returned to.

While she worked, Christine thought about what Erik had told her, but it all seemed so incomplete. Erik had summed up only a portion of his life, the worst parts of it, the things she didn't want to hear, but Erik had never mentioned other parts of his life. She still didn't know very much about his childhood. Erik had said there was other secrets about her as well, but she didn't want to know. Whatever he hid from her could have been anything, but Christine honestly couldn't think of what Erik was talking about. Christine debated whether or not it was something to do with Carlotta, whether she had told him something, but for the life of her, Christine couldn't come up with a single idea. Not that it would have made much of a difference. Erik had told her that it no longer mattered, that it could not affect them now, which made Christine think that it did have something to do with Carlotta, as Carlotta was now no longer a threat in their lives, but Christine was unsure. It was something that Erik thought would change her opinion of him, but Christine wasn't even sure what her opinion of him now was.

She loved him. She would always love him. But Erik was so difficult to bond with on a personal level. On a physical level, it was very easy. Christine had loved being held by him, she loved to kiss his mask and to feel his hands touch her, but Christine was now so aware of how little she knew about him. That week in New York, it had been filled with romantic gestures and intimate cuddling, but now it was all different. Erik had opened himself so slowly, it had been like trying to hold a butterfly in her hands. She had to cradle him, support him, to hold him close, but give him the space to flex his muscles and spread his wings. Now, it was as though his wings had caught fire, and Christine was scrambling to put them out without hurting Erik, or herself.

It was tough trying to gather her mind, she felt as though she was fighting with herself. There were so many parts of her that were arguing, and Christine sometimes just had to stop doing whatever chore she was in the middle of, and just sigh, taking a moment to stop thinking. Christine thought about Raoul, about Erik, about Carlotta and Nadir, and the choices they had made, the decisions that had all led to this moment. There were so many stories, so many memories and thoughts that she would never know.

_What about me? How do I feel? How do I fit in? Is this going to be my life? Everything's changed, I don't even recognize my life anymore. What's even going to happen? I want to be with Erik, I could never let him go, but my whole life would change for good if I stayed with him. Raoul would never be able to be a part of my life, they'd always be fighting each other, and I don't want that. I want to spend my life with both of them, but I have to choose._

Christine would look at Erik, hoping to come across some new revelation, something that would make her path less muddy, but when her eyes hit the mask, it wore the same blank expression that seemed to sum up Christine's feelings. Christine wished she could have a face that responded to her, one that would smile, one that she could touch and feel beneath her fingers. Erik mentioned a mask, but now that issue seemed to have been forgotten. Now that they had proclaimed their love, did Erik feel that he no longer had to show her his face? Did he think that they would just carry on, as though nothing had happened? Christine was so conflicted, she didn't know what to do, she just wanted to return to the way things had been but the past was the past. It could never be rewritten.

Erik had found her in the kitchen, at some point, while Christine had been distracted, and his voice had made her jump, startling her into dropping the plate she had been holding onto. He'd apologized, but Christine just rolled her eyes. Erik was still as apologetic as always, and it still managed to make her smile. Erik was still the needy, loving man that she had met on the red carpet. He was trying, for her, he was changing himself for her, trying to make her happy, trying to make himself happy. Erik had taken her shopping, he had taken her to parties, he had left the safety of his apartment for her. He had flown to London, he had looked after her, he had done everything, and what had _she_ done? She had bought him _crystals_. She was so insignificant compared to him, barely even a scribbled note in the manuscript of Erik's life. Erik had travelled the world, he had seen things that she could never be able to imagine, and yet he was here, the one place that he wanted to be, with her.

They talked, about how Christine felt, and Erik opened up to her and told her of how Nadir had rescued him and brought him to Iran. Erik spoke of music, and how it had been his only friend. He spoke of darkness, and of cells, and Christine realized that while she was worrying about their future, it was Erik's past that was the important issue here. She had taken his hand, hoping to comfort him, pulling his arm tight against her, and wished that she knew what to say. There were no words that could heal him, that could make him forget his past. Christine poured all of her feelings into the embrace she had on his arm, and hoped he understood. Erik went on to talk about Nadir, and his sick wife, and even confided that he had never been in a car before his escape from Iran, which amused Christine. He told her that Erik had promised to help take a look at Nadir's wife, but that it was too late, and he told her about the first time he had been introduced as Erik, the composer.

Christine felt better, listening to him speak. It was of memories that were still quite tender to him, but he seemed happy enough to tell her. It was strange to listen to him, one minute, she was very sad, and the next, she felt as though she wanted to laugh with him. It was the magic of Erik, he was a beautiful storyteller. His words seemed to float in the air, they were so light and soft, Erik must have been in deep thought, and Christine felt as though she could have been rocked to sleep with the way he spoke about music. She felt she could almost reach out and touch it herself, as if she could hold onto it, draw it close to her chest and feel it there, making her muscles relax and fill her lungs with air. The music that sat on her soul, that yearned to be sung, Christine could feel it respond to the way Erik spoke about music, as though there was a some voice that she had never heard before screaming at her that music was everything, that the only way that Christine could understand her feelings was to give in and _feel_ them instead of thinking about them.

Erik had been very calm and gentle with her as he spoke, happily responding to any questions she had, when he had told her that he believed her voice to be more worthy of his songs than his, and it made her feel very unsure of herself. Erik's voice was so much more impressive than hers, but he really believed that her voice was something to be praised. How he thought that, when he had only heard her sing one note, made her wonder if Erik was just building her up in his head, to be better than she actually was, but he believed in her, and she trusted him. He claimed he could have her ready by Christmas, and Christine had almost laughed at that comment. If Erik wanted to make her the greatest singer the world had ever known, and he had promised her on numerous occasions that he would, then it would take more than three months to do so. It would take a year, at the very least, and that would be to get her back to her her father's training had left her. Christine's father had taught her for years, and during the time that he had died, her father had _still_ been teaching her. Erik mentioned something about a music plan, about the Royal Opera house and New Year's eve, and in a matter of seconds, Christine had her future planned out for her already.

Christine wanted to sing for him, and she had said that one day she would, but she couldn't remember if she had ever agreed to sing opera. It seemed like such a wild idea. Her father had just been trying to extend her vocal range, to test the limits of her boundaries, to make her sing like no other human could, but Erik seemed to have found a purpose for her voice. It seemed logical, being an opera singer would best demonstrate her vocal capabilities, but it all seemed so amazing and strange. Christine knew that Erik wanted to make her a singer, but until that moment, she had never thought of how Erik would go about doing it.

If that was her future, if she was destined to be an opera singer, then it would take months of hard work, endless dedication, she would be under the tutelage of Erik, and every day would be spent singing for him, learning from him. Everyday, for the foreseeable future. Everyday, she would be alone with Erik, working hard, and Christine wondered what else the future had in store for her. So what if she _did_ become a singer? What if she did get on that stage, and she was a triumph? What would happen next? Where would their relationship be? What new discoveries would she make, what new secrets would she learn?

Christine looked up at Erik's mask. What secrets would she _never_ learn?

Erik asked her what was troubling her, and Christine couldn't answer him. He would be disappointed in her if she brought up the mask now, but thinking on it, it did not matter _when_ she asked him, Erik would always be defensive about it. If he thought now that he had won her love, after everything he had confessed to her, then it only made sense that he would not think to remove the mask. He wouldn't risk it, Erik would never let her see his face if he thought he would lose her because of it. Christine needed to see it though, she needed to see his eyes, to touch his face, to be able to read the expressions off of his face and not wonder what he was hiding from her. She wanted to be able to pull her fingers through his hair, to whisper in his ear, to feel his breath against her skin, and it was driving her crazy to think that she would never get to do those things. That she would never get to see him smile, or see him frown, or touch his lips. Christine had thought about his lips, plenty of times, and how they would feel pressed against hers, against her neck or on her hand. It made her feel queer, the attraction of something she had never seen, but it made it more intriguing. At this point, it didn't matter what they looked like, just as long as they were hers. Christine didn't need to stop and breathe, she didn't want to think, she just needed to hold onto the unbelievable rush that came from Erik touching her, needing her. Christine felt she would die if Erik kissed her. So, with one foot in the door, Christine offered to sing for him, if he did something in return. He refused, to her astonishment, and casually told her that he would do whatever she asked of him, but not for the price of her voice. Music was to be enjoyed, not used, and Christine had been nervously been spurred on by his words. She asked him to let her see his face.

Erik stared at her, and it was as though time had stopped. Christine couldn't hear anything, not even the noise from the street, and Christine could feel her heart beat away in her chest. She felt her cheeks grow hot, she became painfully aware of her breathing, but Erik did not change. She was sure he had heard her, but his reaction was a blank as his mask. Erik looked out of the window, then back down at her.

"I thought this would happen." Erik murmured softly. "I knew I couldn't make you happy."

"No, Erik, that isn't it!" Christine protested. "You do make me happy, but I want to make _you_ happy, too. I know I could, Erik. All I want is to see your face. I want to see you smile at me, I want to be able to look at you and know you-"

"Know me? You _know_ me already Christine, what more do you wish to know? I will tell you anything, but I can't... Don't ask me that, _please_. I could not bear it." Erik turned away from her, walking into the living room, his back turned to her as she followed him.

"Erik, you said that I wouldn't enjoy your hands, but I _did_, and you liked it too, didn't you? What if I could look at your face and find the same pleasure there that I do with your hands. It's only a face Erik, it can't hurt me, it can do nothing to me but let me dream of you. I've dreamt of you too, Erik. I saw you, finally, in my dreams. I thought it would never happen, but it did. I dreamt of your mask, blinking and moving, as though it was your face. In my dream, I thought it was your face, I touched your lips and I was so happy until I realized it was still your mask. I've never felt such disappointment before."

Christine carefully stepped around Erik, to stand beside him as he stared at the floor. "I am not like the rest of the world, Erik. I love _you_, your face shouldn't... _Doesn't_ matter. I won't turn you away. I won't ever leave you just because of something you were born with."

"Christine, you don't know what you're asking," Erik mumbled. His mask lifted, and turned to look at her. "Oh, but how _could_ you? You do not know what lies beneath here, it is barely even a semblance of a face, it is a carcass, a slab of cold, worthless meat that kills whoever sees it. _You_ don't have to look upon the faces of those who have looked upon Erik's." Erik said, slapping his hand against the mask's face, making her flinch. "I have. I have seen them all. Their faces sit in my brain. I can never forget them, I will never be able to."

"Erik, please-"

"No... No, Christine, I will not... Never, I must _never_ remove it." Erik whispered, wiping the mask's cheek with his fingertips, before dropping his hand. "Please, I will grant any wish you have, but I cannot grant you that, please, you must ask something else of me..."

"Please, would you not at least consider it?"

"No, and you must never ask it of me, Christine."

"Erik, I am not asking that you do this now-"

"Then when, Christine? When would you like to be traumatized?" Erik asked, throwing his hands up for emphasis. "When would it be convenient for you?"

"When you're _ready_." Christine declared. "I'm not forcing you to do this, but I think that our relationship would benefit from this-"

"You talk as though there will still be a relationship after you've seen it. " Erik remarked coldly.

"Well neither of us knows until it happens!" Christine concluded, crossing her arms. "I'm just saying, that we can't just carry on in this limbo. Eventually, we're gonna want to do more than just hold hands, and it's going to be difficult with that mask on."

Erik's stiffened, and refused to look at her. Christine sighed through her nose, and uncrossed her arms. She ran a hand through her hair, and stared at the ceiling. It was such a difficult subject to talk about, but at least they had finally addressed it.

"If we have a future, then don't you think it will be pretty hard if you're constantly wearing a mask? I know this is difficult for you. It's hard to give up something you've held onto your entire life. But I'm giving you a choice, here. You call the shots, you can choose how, and when-"

The mask's eyes met hers. "You still do not understand. Perhaps I should have told you about my face, if I had just explained what you would find, then you wouldn't be so curious-"

"It is not curiosity, Erik."

"Please, Christine. Stop. I can never forget, I must _never_ forget. I must, I must do something..." Erik said erratically, turning around to face her. "I can sing for you, Christine. You'd like that, wouldn't you? I am a wonderful singer, I did sing to you once, but you fell asleep. Would you like me to try again? I can do that, I can-"

"Erik, no-"

Erik took her hands, and pressed them to the mask's cheeks. "I can make you a different mask, I could wear any mask you liked! Please, tell me you would love your Erik still. Do not... Don't..."

Christine sighed, and forced herself to remove her hands from his mask. "It's okay, Erik. I said I wasn't going to force you. You don't have to do it."

"Christine?" Erik's voice cracked. "Would you still sing? Christine?"

Christine nodded sadly. "Yes, Erik."

Erik took her hands gingerly. "Please, Christine. Please don't be sad. I can make it so you would never think of my face, you would be so loved, that it would never cross your mind."

Christine bowed her head. "But how can I show you that I feel loved? I keep saying it, but you don't take my words seriously." She looked up. "How can I kiss you with that mask on?"

Erik stood silently, watching her. "You wouldn't..."

"I would. That's what couples do, after all. They kiss. You think of me as this precious little girl, but I have feelings of my own that need to be expressed." Christine smiled poorly. "You want to kiss me too. And you deserved to be kissed. More than any other person that I know."

Erik's hands slowly started to squeeze hers, but Christine didn't let it deter her. "I could kiss you Erik. You'd believe me then, wouldn't you?"

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep." Erik said coldly, releasing her hands. "You shouldn't tease me, like this."

"I'm not teasing you. I want to kiss you!" Christine argued, taking his hands. "Often, and hard. And _I_ want to be kissed. I want _you_ to kiss _me_, it should have been _you_ kissing me, not Raoul."

Erik drew a sudden breath. "I see that _boy's_ influence over you has affected-"

"Erik, don't even try and blame him. This isn't Raoul's influence, this is my own. Please, I'm not asking that you do it now, I want you to want it too, thats what I'm asking, that you think on it."

Erik paused. "There is no changing your mind, is there?" He asked, his voice flat and empty.

"Only if you tell me that you don't love me."

Erik took a deep breath, lifting his head. "Then it is inevitable." The mask turned slightly towards her. "You will regret it. You'll wish you had never spoken those words."

"No, I wouldn't-"

"You would. No woman, no _human_, has ever looked at my face and wished to kiss it."

"_I_ would." Christine answered sadly.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. Neither of them spoke, or moved, and Christine felt Erik's gloves tighten around her little hands.

"Then, would you promise it?"

Christine stared at Erik, hardly daring to take a breath. "Promise to kiss you?"

"Yes. Just one kiss. It doesn't have to be on the lips, but a single kiss against my face, to feel your lips..." Erik's voice trailed off.

Christine watched him, and smiled sadly. "Yes, Erik." Christine swore. "I promise to kiss you."

"...Then I will do it. You will see Erik's face." Erik said in an emotionally detached voice.

"Erik, you don't have to right now-"

"No, on your debut, you shall see his face, and then you will be happy." Erik said mysteriously. "You'll be the toast of the town, the crowning jewel of Europe, and then you may leave your Erik. I will not mind then, I think. I shall be sad, but you shall be happy. You'll have the world at your feet, and you will not need Erik anymore."

Christine didn't know how to answer, Erik's words were so uncanny, his voice had taken on an unapproachable bearing, and Christine couldn't understand what he was saying.

"Leave? Erik, didn't I just say that I wouldn't leave you? I won't, Erik. I _won't_."

"Christine. You have promised enough, do not promise to stay. You said it yourself, neither of us knows until it happens. After your debut, you'll be able to stand on your own feet, I will have given you the world. There'll be nothing to hold you back, and that's the way it should be. Can you do that, Christine? Can you wait until then?"

Christine closed her eyes, her head drooping. "I can wait. I don't like your reason for waiting, but I can wait."

"Nevermind, Christine." He sighed awkwardly, and patted her hand. "You'll understand, eventually."

Christine lifted her head, and stared at the mask's face. Still, the same blank expression. She looked away, dejected.

Erik rubbed her hand, keeping them warm. "Now, you'll have to excuse me, Christine. I must make arrangements. If we are to start your training, then my diva must have adequate space for her to rehearse in."

He lifted her hand to the mask, about to kiss her knuckles, but he thought against it, and instead let it drop back to her side. He stroked her fingertips, and left the flat for privacy, reaching into his trouser pocket to pull out his phone. Christine stared after him, her lip trembling as she was filled with emotions she could not name. It seemed nothing she said would ever make Erik take her seriously. He seemed so resolved to living a life without her, he practically offered to leave her every time he was offered a chance at happiness. Christine wondered if Erik would actually be happier without her. She seemed to cause him nothing but trouble, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to make him happy, she didn't know what to say. Christine went to sit on the sofa, and stared blankly ahead of her. She needed someone to talk to, someone other than Erik, and the only person that could help her had left her. Paul meowed, jumping up onto the sofa, before settling himself on her lap, sniffing her shirt before rubbing his face against her stomach. Well. At least Paul would give her kisses.

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	81. Chapter 81

_**Kem's **__**"Human Touch"**_

_Every finger was made_  
_For your delight_  
_To follow the curve of your face_  
_Here next to mine_  
_All of your secrets are safe with me_  
_Can I taste your perfume_  
_I could just linger for days and melt with you_

_We cant lose with love on our side_  
_And could use your affection tonight_  
_Love was made just for us_  
_Human Touch_

_Watching the wind blow your hair_  
_Don't you wanna spoon_

_In a garden of pillows we can share_  
_Take off your shoes_  
_Girl you're my favorite time of the year_  
_Can I kiss your toes_  
_Until this fever disappears_  
_Girl you run the show_

_Oh just stay here with me_  
_your love is all that I need_  
_I just want it so much_  
_Human Touch_

* * *

Erik's emotions had been wild, all over the place as Christine spoke the words he had dreaded to hear. He wasn't sure how they had gotten onto the subject of his mask, they had been talking about her voice, giving Erik tremendous chills down his back as he thought of Christine performing, at last. It seemed as though it had been years of waiting, but Christine had voiced her concerns over his mask, and Erik's thoughts of her lovely voice flew out of his head. She had asked him the one wish he could not grant, the one thing he could not give her. She had asked to see his face, and she knew it was a delicate request from the nervous way she had addressed him. Erik had stared at her in muted shock. He had never thought that Christine would ask him about it, she had sworn to him that she would never make him remove it, she knew how important the mask was to him, but she had brought it up, now, of all times. Erik didn't think he could handle any more news, they seemed to be constantly baraging him, threatening his happy future with her. Erik was hurt, betrayed, as though Christine had personally threatened him. She was staring up at him, with her blue eyes, and Erik had to move away from her, to rid him of her hurt visage.

The memory of Carlotta's twisted face still haunted him. The way her pupil's had shrunk and her lips trembled, the way she had tried to push him away, her tongue tied screaming, it was something that scared him still. If Christine were to see his face, she would be the same, she would be horrified, and Christine would hide her pretty face from him. Erik never wanted to see her face that way, he wanted to look on it always, but if it was twisted with disgust and abhorrence, then Erik was not sure what he would do. If Christine screamed, then Erik would die. Christine did not know the power his face held, the power to kill, the power to warp the mind and make her curse him. She would hate him, she could never love the mangled damage that his face bore. She would cry, and run away, and Erik would not be able to do a thing to stop her. Erik couldn't risk it, he would _never_ risk it. Christine was too precious to him, he adored the smiles she gave him, to lose the only woman who had not spurned him, the only reason for him to carry on in this wrecked world, it would be the end of Erik.

Christine protested, as he knew she would, but it made no difference. Erik refused to hear her, he argued with her, pleaded with her, begged her to reconsider, but nothing could change her mind. She disagreed, trying to convince him that she had taken joy in his hands, so why not in his face? But it wasn't the same! How could Christine not see that his face was going to be significantly far worse than his ugly, weathered hands? How could she find anything that would please her? She would find a new meaning of terror when faced with his snarling exterior. When Christine spoke of her dream, she had a quiet, gentle nerve about her, pleading with him to understand her. Erik had been jealous of his dream self, the one who could stare at Christine openly, the one whose lips had been touched by her. She said his mask had moved, as though it was his face, how she had been disappointed, and Erik had never despised himself so utterly before. Not even in _her_ dreams could he please her. It didn't bode well for Erik. She said she would never leave him, but it was all just pretty lies, lies that she did not know she told. She would leave, everyone did, it was unavoidable, but Christine pledged herself to him, sounding very sure of herself. Erik hated to let her down.

Erik tried to explain, to make her understand, but still she put up a fight, telling him that he did not have to do it that second, but when he felt ready. Erik wanted to tear his hair out, Christine just didn't understand. He would never be ready, it wasn't something he could just forget. His mask was his protection, against everything, it gave him the strength to move about, the strength to stand beside her and claim her as his. If he was to lose it, then what would he be left with? The mask held him together, it gave him courage, it gave him support, Erik could not feel anything remotely related to the human race without it. He was just another freak, another sideshow attraction that should have been killed at birth, and to ask him to remove his mask... Well, she might as well have been asking him to leave. That was all it meant to him... If he lost the mask, he lost _her_.

Christine tried to convince him otherwise, that she would always stand beside him, as she did in that moment, that their bond would benefit because of it, but Erik couldn't understand how she saw it that way, until she mentioned her eventually wish to do more intimate things with him. Erik had blushed, quite sure that she did not mean what he had dreamed of. If there was no mask, separating his eager lips from hers, then there was nothing to keep him from kissing her. It would have been easy to hold her face to his, to press his thick, fleshy lips to hers and just take his first kiss. It was wrong, Erik could never do it. He could never lift his trembling hands to her face and make her suffer the ordeal of even touching it. She would never let him, she would struggle against him, and Erik did not want an unwilling partner.

Erik regretted not having informed Christine earlier just what lay in waiting beneath his mask, she was too curious now for her own damn good, and Erik should have done more to deter her from thinking about it by herself. He should have talked it with her more closely, paid more attention to her concerns over his mask instead of just wooing her. There was nothing he could do now to stop her nosy prying. Erik tried to distract her, to make her wish for something other than to see his face, but it was too late. He could see the look in her eyes, it was determined, confident, and it was such a stark difference between what Erik had seen over the last few days. Christine had been so hushed, walking on eggshells around him, to see her stand up for herself and demand something for once, it was refreshing. Erik couldn't help but revel at the sight of an empowered Christine. The strength disappeared though, as defeat washed over her eyes. She pulled away, and Erik desperately clutched at straws, trying to make her happy.

Christine looked beaten down, crestfallen as she sighed and looked away from him. Erik could see the frustration in her downcast eyes, and he wished he could bring back the energetic and dynamic Christine that had been standing in front of him only seconds ago. Erik tried to satisfy her, tried to take her mind off of his face, but she was still thinking about it, her thoughts were still revolving around what lay under his mask, and it was tearing him apart. The matter was over, she would not bring it up again, and it hurt him to have to shatter any illusions she might have about their relationship, but she looked up, her watery eyes focusing the mask, and asked him how she could show her love.

_How can I kiss you with that mask on?_

She had asked him that, she had _said_ those words. Erik could hardly believe she _had_ said them, his brain seemed to stop working as he stared down at her melancholy face. She looked ready to burst into tears, and Erik couldn't breathe. She had suggested it so casually, though her expression told him that it was something she clearly desired, and thought was natural.

_Christine, you live in a world of love and acceptance, you think kisses are nothing... Cheap little tokens of affection to give away recklessly. To me, it is the world, it is life and death. It would not be so strange for you to greet someone that way, why, accompanied by a few little words, it makes for a beautiful goodbye, but I could not stand it if you were to say goodbye to me, Christine. You can't kiss me. You wouldn't be able to, my dear, beautiful Christine. My darling, my warmth, my light, my muse. Oh, if I were to kiss you, you would die of fright..._

It was cruel of her to suggest it, to even hint that it would be possible. Erik forced himself to feel nothing, he could not let his feelings show, he could not let Christine ever see how much a kiss would mean to him. She could never understand what the pressing of their lips meant to him, she would laugh if he was to tell her that it was all he fantasized about. But, she did mention how she wished it had been him to kiss her, instead of the pampering boy whose presence she missed. Erik's blood boiled at the mention of his name, and wished nothing but misfortune on the idiotic lad. Erik dearly would have liked to have spoken with him, the thought of strangling Raoul's neck had been a pleasant daydream of his, but now he could see just what Raoul's actions had led to. It had inspired thoughts in Christine, ones that she had no desire to see fulfilled previously, and it was because of the infernal and ill timed profession of his so called love!

Christine refused to let Erik berate him, and once more, the stubborn strength that hid deep inside her emerged. It blazed for a moment, lighting up her eyes as she still asked him to think about letting her see his face. Erik could see she was never going to back down, not really, in her heart. She would always wish to see it, and if Erik did not take control of the situation, then there was the possibility that she would try to take matters into her own hand. Erik couldn't allow that, there was no telling what would happen if she tried to remove it herself. Flashes of his dream, where he had strangled Christine, forced to watch her eyes roll into the back of her head as she scratched at his hands, it was not something he ever wished to see again. Erik did not even know if he could control himself around Christine if he removed the mask _himself_.

Erik could see no way around it, there was no escape from the future that Christine had planned for him. She wanted a future that he could not give her. She wanted a normal relationship, like any other man and woman, but it was an impossibility. What they had now, Erik was happy with, even with her muted carefree spirit.

It had been a slip of the tongue. God knew, it had been an accident, he hadn't meant to actually ask her, but the question had burst it's way through his lips, and he had forced a promise on Christine. A promise to kiss him. She had been surprised, almost dubious, as though she wasn't quite sure that she had heard him, but she smiled, and agreed. She had said the words, with a sad smile on her face, but she meant them.

_I promise to kiss you._

Five little words, who knew that would bring a man to tears? Erik had felt them gathering in his eyes, almost spilling down his cheeks as he stared in wonder at Christine. She was brave, to promise him the sweetest gesture Erik would ever receive. His first kiss, Erik could hardly believe it. It would be his, at long last. Erik could feel his soul swell at the thought, but it was quickly deflated when his cunning little brain reminded him that Christine would still have to see his face in order for him to receive his kiss.

It could not be helped. It was an irritating necessity, a disturbing requirement to feel the grace of Christine's lips against his face. He did not ask her to kiss his lips, she would be revolted by them and she would ask him not to make her, so he would allow her to choose for herself. Just as long as he could feel her face close to his, enough to feel her hot breath, it would be like ecstasy, the only drug that could complete him. Nonetheless, Christine would still feel the need to flee, and if Erik could not keep her, then he would not keep her from her destiny. She _would_ be a star, Erik knew she could do it, but once the limelight hit her, the world would be kneeling before her, roaring and shouting for more, and Christine could have any kind of future she wished. If she wanted to rule the world, she could conquer it easily. Managers would be fighting among themselves to sign her on, there would be nothing that Christine could not have, and more importantly, she would not need him any more. She could easily find herself someone to handle her business affairs, She would have no use for Erik once she took the stage. It all seemed so mad, he must have been insane to think that anything good would come out of the removal of his mask, but the thought of receiving a kiss from her, it seemed to drive his motivations, and before he had realised it, he had promised her to show his face after her debut.

His face would make her realize that she would no longer need him. She'd understand, at last, who he truly was. She'd finally get the picture, that Erik could not give her a long and happy life. He could not take her to restaurants, he could never walk with her in public, he'd never be able to socialize with anyone but her, and Nadir. She would be tired of him, and end up resenting him. Their relationship was doomed to end, but it had been a magical dream while it lasted. He tried not think about it. It would be three months away. Three long months. Erik hoped they lasted forever.

Christine told him that she would wait, and in a flurry of emotions, each one more terrifying and exciting than the last, Erik had excused himself from the room, appearing calmer than he actually felt. Erik made the pretense of calling to inquire about rehearsal spaces, but once he shut Christine's front door behind him, he had stumbled over to the stairs, and eased himself onto the top step, sliding one gloved hand underneath his shirt, to feel his chest. It was sore, as though it had been battered and bruised, and Erik had to look to see if anything had changed. It was still the same, scared skin that had always been there. Erik closed his eyes, rubbing his chest pathetically as he wondered just what had happened in the space of twenty minutes.

_My God... What have I done?! All for a kiss... It shall kill her!_

Erik winced, unaware that had just scratched his nails across his chest, and pulled his hand away. It was unbearable, the unfairness of it all. What had Christine done to deserve such misery? Why was she actively seeking out her own destruction? It was Erik's lustful greed for earthly delights that had possessed him to even allow it, and it had been his self restraint that had stopped him from demanding the kiss off of her right there and then. Erik still had to take a few breaths, his heart beginning to beat faster now that he could think clearly about what she had promised him.

There must have been some way to make her change her mind, to let him continue wearing his mask, it just wasn't fair that she would ask this of him. He could not refuse her anything, but why couldn't she see that there was nothing good waiting for her? Erik needed advice, he needed someone to talk to, someone that could ease his fears, or give him comforting words. The only person he could think of was Nadir, though that thought didn't give him much comfort. He quickly brought up Nadir's number, and held the phone to his ear. Nadir picked up after a few seconds, sounding very happy to hear back from him.

"Erik! How are you? I was wondering when I might hear from you. Is everything alright? Is Christine okay?"

Erik looked at Christine's door meekly. "I don't know."

"You don't know? What's happened? Did you tell Christine about Iran?"

"Yes, I have told her. She has taken it remarkably well, considering what could have happened. She still swears her love."

"That is fantastic news! Give her time, Erik, she _will_ come around. She knows you would never hurt her."

"It's not so simple. There are other issues that have appeared." Erik mentioned.

"Oh?"

"Her friend, Raoul De Chagny. He has kissed her and admitted his love for her."

"Ah, yes, I am aware of that. Meg had informed me."

"That Giry girl knows? How does she know?"

"Well I imagine Christine told her."

"That girl, I swear, every conversation we have about her brings only more and more calamity. What is it with that girl? Why must she persistently screw things up?" Erik grunted. "She gave Christine some of Antoinette's pills, the ones I gave her."

"Did Christine had a negative reaction?"

"Yes, but unlike one we've seen. Christine came home and was barely conscious, she could very well have gotten herself seriously hurt because of that girl! Christine was sick for days, and I could not heal her because my measurements were inaccurate due to that's girl's foolish actions. I hope _you_ agree with me that _Meg_ is an idiot!"

"Erik," Nadir chuckled. "Christine _is_ fine now, _isn't_ she?"

Erik sighed, running a hand over the top, and down the back, of his mask as he hung his head. "Yes, she is. Physically fit."

"Let me guess, you're concerned over Raoul? Meg has told me that he's no longer in the picture, apparently. And you have nothing to worry about, if she still says she loves you, then-"

"It's not just that, Nadir, it has gotten much worse. I don't know what to do!" Erik cried, stuffing his fingertips to the mask's lips, trying to muffle his voice.

"You two... I swear, I've never met anyone with this many problems... I would have thought that the two of you would have been on cloud nine by now! It's why I didn't call, I figured you two would want to be alone-"

"Nadir, please, listen to me, it's Christine. She asked me to... She wants me to remove my _mask_." Erik gasped, his last few words hanging in the air in the empty hallway.

Nadir stayed silent. Erik waited nervously, listening to every breath he could hear through the receiver, until finally, Nadir calmly asked, "And you haven't shown her?"

Erik balked. "Of course I have not!"

"...So what did you say?"

"What do you think I said? I told her I couldn't."

"Why not?" Nadir asked, as though the answer was a real mystery!

"You _know_ why!" Erik held the phone with both hands restlessly. "I must take it back, she mustn't, she _couldn't_ keep her promise, it would be like sacrificing a lamb by feeding it to the wolves! Oh _damn_!"

"Promise? What has she promised you?" Nadir asked, and the tone of his voice made Erik want to weep.

"A kiss..." Erik sighed, closing his eyes in blissful tranquility. "A kiss... For Erik."

Nadir sighed slowly. "Oh, _Erik_. A kiss. Of course." Nadir mused. "A fair trade."

Erik, snapped out of his reverie, growled at Nadir. "This is not the time to be making jokes. I need your help, I need you to speak with Christine, to make her see sense-"

"I shall do no such thing!" Nadir scoffed. "It's not an unreasonable request. She'll have to see it eventually, it can't just go on like this forever. She deserves to know the face of the man she loves."

"She may love the man, but she cannot love the face!" Erik barked, squeezing his hands into fists. "Please, Nadir, she'll listen to you-"

"No, she won't." Nadir countered. "I'm betting nothing will make her change her mind. Not now that you've promised to show her. Did you say when, or...?"

"After her debut, which should be in three months, if I can organize everything in time, and get her voice prepared." Erik pondered for a moment. "I'm sure I could stretch that time period out, perhaps to six months, at the least."

"Don't you dare, Erik. That girl deserves to know-"

"-about my face? There is no greater torture on this planet than having to stare at my abhorrent face. You think she'll just shrug her shoulders and laugh it off? How can you be so nonchalant about this?"

"Because, Erik, I believe in the two of you. Everyone does. You two are all everyone is talking about, now that Carlotta's left town."

Erik cringed. "What do the rabble say, then?"

"You aren't interested in knowing what Carlotta is upto?"

"No, I _know_ what she's doing. She's doing as she's been told. Do you happen to know where she went?"

"Not a clue, but I heard there was some commotion at the airport with security. Is that your doing?"

Erik smirked. "No, not exactly. Let me know if you hear anything else about her, I'm curious."

"What did you tell her exactly?"

"You'll see soon enough. It should be entertaining, and entirely blameless!" Erik chuckled, flexing his fingers. "Now, just who do you mean by '_everyone_'?"

"Everyone. All the news channels, the other celebrities, have you not even checked Christine's channel?"

Erik's lips twitched. "No. There have been more pressing matters."

"Well, please remind Christine that her followers are worried about her. They're all expecting updates pretty soon."

"I will make sure Christine knows." Erik grumbled. "Though I think her video will get in the way of her lessons."

"Don't even suggest that she give that up, Erik. She needs something to herself, something that doesn't revolve around you."

Erik made a noise to show that he understood, though he was far from happy about it. Christine would only want to talk about the two of them, and Erik still wasn't overly fond of _that_ idea.

"So, Christine's _debut_." Erik could hear the excitement in Nadir's voice. "She's actually agreed?"

"In a way." Erik brooded. "She says she will sing, but I'm concerned that she is not emotionally invested in the idea."

"Not right now, but I think once you get her singing, you won't be able to stop her!"

"I hope so. I'm very worried for her." Erik said, pursing his lips.

"Don't be, she'll be fine, Erik. Just be gentle with her. Remember, she's not one of your students. She's your girlfriend, you have to treat her accordingly."

"I know that, you dolt!" Erik huffed. "I just have to think about what production I should put her in."

"I think Faust would be good for her." Nadir suggested.

"That's the only opera you know." Erik said, shaking his head.

"But it would be good for her, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, but I want her to star in something that she could make her own, something where she would not be overshadowed by previous singers. No, I think I must write something for her."

"In three months? That's asking a bit much."

"All the more reason to delay her debut." Erik considered, hanging his head once more.

"I wouldn't make her wait too long, Erik." Nadir warned. "Love can fade, like fruits or flowers. I'm sure you'll think of something."

Erik's head lurched up. "Think of..."

It was a crazy thought, but it was perfect. It was the only Opera he could ever consider for Christine's introduction to the operatic society. It had exactly what the audience wanted, it was a little known opera by Chalumeau. It was one of the few operas that Erik had once toyed with the idea of rewriting. Erik often collected operas that had not been well received, convinced that he could make them better, but there had been one that had always stumped him. It was a good opera, one that had shown the promise of being a popular and adored opera, but there had always been something missing, in Erik's eyes. And now he had found the missing element! It was Christine!

"Nadir... Nadir, would you help me with something?"

"Um... Sure... What is it?"

"Andre and Firmin, tell them I have exactly what they're looking for!"

"Andre and... What are you upto? Why on earth would you want those two involved?" Nadir asked in bewilderment.

Erik grinned, leaning forward excitedly as he licked his lips. "Because, Christine will star in _Hannibal_!"

* * *

**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	82. Chapter 82

_**Chicago's **__**"Hard To Say I'm Sorry"**_

_Everybody needs a little time away_  
_I heard her say, from each other_  
_Even lovers need a holiday_  
_Far away from each other_

_Hold me now_  
_It's hard for me_  
_To say I'm sorry_  
_I just want you to stay_

_After all that_  
_We've been through_  
_I will make it up to you_  
_I promise to_

_And after all that's_  
_Been said and done_  
_You're just the part of me_  
_I can't let go_

_Couldn't stand to be kept away_  
_Just for the day, from your body_  
_Wouldn't wanna be swept away_  
_Far away from the one that I love_

* * *

Raoul had often fantasized about telling Christine how he felt about her, sometimes it had threatened to slip out at the most inconvenient times, but Raoul had always managed to keep his feelings in check. It was very hard though, as Christine was naturally loving and affectionate. They had always been close, people typically assumed that they were dating from the way they shared their lunches, held hands, even the way they spoke to each other, as if they had their own private little world. Christine gave her affections freely, unafraid of anything, and Raoul loved the way she treated him. When Raoul was having a bad day, Christine would hug him, and kiss him on the cheek, and took his pain to heart. Sometimes, she would play with his hair, complaining about the amount of gel he used, but enjoying the way his hair curled around her fingers. They would watch movies in her flat, cuddling up to each other on the couch, and though Raoul had always tried to be respectful, Christine had always found a way to make the moments more intimate, throwing a blanket over their laps, burying her face in his shoulder if they were watching a scary movie. It was all adorable, the way she stared at him when they shared a private joke, the way she smiled and rolled her eyes whenever he tried to make her laugh when they were bored. Christine was so gentle, so compassionate, Raoul wasn't really that surprised to learn that Erik Destler had become infatuated with her. Anyone would, Christine found it hard to hate anyone, but Raoul had not expected Christine to be similarly charmed by the masked celebrity. When Christine had said that she loved him, Raoul had been heartbroken and bitter, and on a stupid impulse, he had kissed her.

Raoul didn't know what he expected to happen, but he had, in the microseconds that it had taken to cross her kitchen and place his lips against hers, hoped that Christine would finally understand. That she would realize her own feelings, feel how earnestly he loved her, but she pushed him away, confused tears in her eyes, and Raoul knew he had pushed her too far. Christine, with a dazed expression, had still not understood his actions, and he told her, in words that could not be construed, that he loved her. Raoul had hoped the conversation would go smoother, he had always wished that Christine would admit that she loved him back, but Christine was genuinely clueless to his feelings. That was the problem with Christine, because she had no fear of showing her feelings, she automatically assumed that everyone else did the same. Christine took everything at face value.

Raoul told her the truth, as much as he thought she could handle, but even that seemed too much for her. He told her that he had loved her from the very beginning. Raoul could still remember walking alongside the river, holding onto the hand of his nanny, moaning about how cold the weather was, until a voice, as clear as a whistle, rang out across the cold London air. It was singing in some strange language, but it was very stirring, and Raoul had tugged on his nanny's hand, dragging her over to a crowd where a young Christine was singing, standing beside her father. who had been playing on the violin. She had her eyes closed, and Raoul had stared with unabashed delight as he watched her singing enrapture the crowd. She looked so peaceful, her rosy cheeks making his chest feel funny, but she had opened her eyes, and the bluest eyes that Raoul had ever seen had met his, for only a second, before she started to fiddle with the red scarf that was wound around her neck. Raoul had watched her struggle with the scarf, until the wind managed to snatch it out from her fingers and send it trailing over the railings. Raoul had seen her teary face, as the other members of the crowd began to walk away, ignoring his nanny as she tried to pry him away as well, and he could see how upset she was.

It made no sense to Raoul, why a plain red wool scarf would make her cry, but he had ripped his hand from his nanny's, and had jumped over the railing, plummeting down into the icy water. It had been a stupid idea, Raoul hadn't thought about how cold the water would be, his only concern had been getting the red scarf that made the strange, beautiful little girl cry. Raoul had struggled to swim, the cold water making his muscles freeze up, but he had grabbed the woolen scarf, his teeth chattering and his body instinctively curling up into a tight ball as he tried to conserve his body heat. Two arms had surrounded his body, bringing him to the surface, and Raoul had been so close to passing out, he hadn't been aware of anything, until he felt a warmth presence join him, and he had opened his eyes to see Christine, standing over him as he lay in the ambulance, looking very scared and upset. He had given her scarf back to her, and she in turn had taken his hand. She had held onto it, refusing to let it go until they had reached the hospital.

Raoul had been ill for a few days, stuck in the hospital with no-one for company. His mother was too busy to visit him, though he often saw her walking around his ward, always dressed for surgery, and Philip visited him after his lessons, though it was never for long. Raoul saw his father the most, being a pediatrician, but he had patients of his own, ones that needed him more. Raoul had always resented the other children for keeping his father busy, he had believed that now that he had become a part of his father's work, that he would be able to spend more time with him, but it was sadly not the case. Raoul had kept to himself. He was bored, and did not even have the company of his nanny, who had been fired because of his incident, though Raoul didn't care too much, he had never really liked her. He liked Christine though. He thought of her when he was lonely, lying in his hospital bed as he stared out of the window. He thought of her wild, curly blond hair, her blue eyes, and her voice. It kept him company, until she had walked into the ward, her eyes darting about, until they locked onto his, and she skipped over to him, a large smile on her face as she took his hand once more. Her father followed after her, a strange, accepting look on his face as he placed a small, basket of fruit on the table beside him. Christine had thanked him over and over again, telling him how valiant he was, and Raoul had listened to her talk, bewitched by her as she introduced herself and her father. Raoul had not said a word to her, but he had looked up at her father, when she told him that her father had jumped in after her. He stared down at Raoul, a thoughtful smile on his face, though it disappeared whenever he coughed. There had been some thought in his eyes, some expression that he tried to convey to Raoul, but Raoul had not been able to understand.

For the time that Raoul had been in hospital, Christine had come to visit him every day, always accompanied by her father, who still looked rather ill, but managed to hide it well from Christine. She told him all about herself, how she had been born in Sweden, what primary school she was attending, what her father did for a living, but she never asked Raoul about himself. Christine never poked her nose into his business, until his father had turned up once, to check on Raoul, and was surprised to see Christine perched on the edge of his bed, while her father sat in a nearby chair, reading them both stories of the north. Raoul had been embarrassed from the way his father had talked to him in front of Christine, but Christine was delighted to have met his father, and Raoul told her that his mother worked at the same hospital too. Christine's face had lit up, telling him how lucky he was to have both his parents so close to him while he was sick. Raoul didn't care, he rather preferred Christine's visits to theirs. Whenever she visited him, it was always with a smile on her face, talking to him as though they had always been friends. His parents visited him with grim smiles, speaking to him as though he was just another patient.

When Raoul had left the hospital, he had thought that he would never see Christine again, and he missed her cheery disposition and her friendly personality. She liked him for him, she had no interest in his family or their position in society. Raoul was constantly aware of it, and how his family's title made people react around him, but neither Christine nor her father seemed to understand just what a Vicomte was. It was his father's title, a useless mark of nobility that he had inherited, but the title meant nothing these days. It did come with some perks, there was the various family houses, in England, France, Italy, and they were quite wealthy, and while Christine understood that his family was rich, she never seemed to acknowledge it. If she was jealous of his family's fortune, then she never showed it.

Raoul had argued with his parents that he didn't want private tutors, he wanted to go to primary school, with Christine. His parents didn't like the idea, they had tried in the past to convince Phillip to become a doctor, but he fainted at the sight of blood, so they had given up on him, and tried to persuade Raoul instead. That being a doctor was the best move for him, as though his life was a game of chess, that had to be carefully arranged and planned. They wanted him to follow in their footsteps, not to follow some strange little girl he had almost died because of. They gave in eventually, and Raoul had been placed in the same school as Christine, who had been just as overjoyed as he had as they sat next to each other in class. They had spent every second together as the years passed, and Raoul spent those seconds fascinated with the lovely little Swedish girl who sang like an angel.

Christine always made Raoul feel special, he felt warm and protected whenever she looked at him, and when she took his hand, Raoul always blushed, but he had never understood the swelling feeling of love in his chest, until they had entered high school. Christine had never really formed a friendship with any of the other girls, there was no-one that she confided in apart from him. Not that she couldn't make friends with any of the girls, it was just that she wasn't as interested in fashion, boybands or gossip. Raoul purposely shunned the other boys, as they were crude and talked about football and girls, and neither of those things interested Raoul as much as Chrisinte interested him. He was happy to spend his lunch breaks with Christine, sitting in an empty classroom as they talked, played games and studied. When Christine matured, the boys started to notice her, though she never paid them any attention. They flirted with her, but Christine always turned them down in a gentle, careful way. Raoul had never known until that moment how hot his blood could boil, or how relieved he could feel whenever Christine looked at him after spurning some new boy's feelings.

And now, Christine was all alone, stuck in her flat, without him. Raoul was angry with himself for leaving her alone, but he couldn't have stayed in her home any longer. He told Christine that her father thought they would end up together, and she had gotten distraught, accusing him of using her father against her, but Raoul had not meant to make his words sound so cruel. It was a mistake, just a horrible mistake, and it was one that was torturing Raoul as he stayed at his parent's estate in Oxfordshire. Phillip had invited him, and Raoul had passively agreed, packing a few things to take with him as he repeated their conversation over and over in his head. The whole thing had gone terribly wrong. Raoul had been so upset, trying to squash the feelings of rejection and heartache that sat in his chest as he left her standing in the middle of her flat. Worse still, Raoul didn't know where they stood now. Raoul wanted to see her again, he wanted to apologise for the way he had treated her, the way he had forced his expectations onto her, but she had made no attempt at trying to reach him. He stared at his phone, but there were no missed calls from her, no texts or emails.

Raoul had phoned Edward, asking whether Christine had checked in with him, but Edward had no clue where Christine was, and was about to insist that Raoul come back to work, but Raoul had hung up the phone before he had the chance. Raoul had only worked there because of Christine, which was an annoyance to his parents, but he had insisted that it was just work experience. They had agreed to it, calling his time there a useful study of independence. They had allowed him to get a flat nearby, and at Raoul's insistence, had stopped his allowance. Raoul had never felt more liberated, it was like he was finally finding his own place in the world, and he had dreamed of a future with Christine, where they were together, and happy, just living a normal life.

While Raoul drifted about the family home, Phillip had watched him with concerned interest, though he had no clue as to what caused Raoul's misery. He knew it was somehow related to Christine, and he had tried to ask Raoul what had him so upset, but Raoul couldn't bring himself to say that he had finally made the leap, he had finally told Christine of his feelings and that she had rejected him. Philip would only give him pity, he knew that Raoul was hopelessly in love with her, but Phillip would never be able to understand how much grief Raoul was in because of his foolish mistake. Philip soon tired of his moping however, and addressed him one morning when Raoul came out of his room. Philip had cornered him in the dining room, while Raoul had been playing with his food, pushing it about on his plate.

Phillip walked in, dressed impeccably as always, and approached the breakfast bar, picking up a plate to pile some sausages and bacon on it as he yawned. The maid standing near him offered to pour him some coffee, but Phillip dismissed her, clearly desiring privacy with Raoul. Raoul had been lost in thought until Phillip finally said something.

"Dad's postcard came this morning. The convention is going well."

Raoul hummed in reply, staring down at his uneaten breakfast as Phillip sat himself at the head of the table, beside Raoul.

"Mum's having fun. I knew she'd like Austria." Phillip idly commented, trying to stay casual as he peered at Raoul.

Raoul hummed again, staring out of the large bay windows.

"I haven't seen Christine in a while." Philip noted, picking up his toast, staring directly at Raoul as he buttered it.

"Neither have I." Raoul responded, looking at his older brother.

"Any reason for that?" Philip asked hesitantly, apparently pleased that Raoul had started to open up, if only slightly.

"There is."

"Which would be?"

"None of your business." Raoul sighed in annoyance, and dropped his fork. He shook his head. "Christine's angry with me."

Philip observed him, looking up from the broadsheet he had chosen to briefly flick through. "What did you do?"

"I said some stuff, things she didn't need to hear." Raoul pushed his plate away. "I told her that I loved her."

Phillip groaned, pulling a comical face as he turned back to his newspaper. "That was a stupid idea."

Raoul looked up, grumpily. "I never said it was a _good_ idea. It just came out."

"And Christine is angry with you for that?" Phillip asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not just that. I kissed her, as well."

Philip glanced at him, before returning his attention back to the newspaper in his hands. "I'd be angry too if you kissed me."

"This isn't funny, Phillip, this is serious."

Philip sighed, and folded up his newspaper. He turned to Raoul, a bored expression on his face as he spoke. "I fail to see how. Christine has never been one to stay angry for long. Not even when I threw that water bomb at her did she say a mean word."

Raoul smiled weakly. Raoul and Christine had been eight years old, playing hide and seek in his family estate's hedge maze when Phillip had come running in out of nowhere, tossing some small multicoloured water balloons at the two of them. Christine's eyes had widened, and she had squealed with delight as she took Raoul's hand and ran away from Phillip. They had managed to evade his water bombs, even when they had come to a few dead ends. It had all been fun and games until Phillip threw a large red water bomb onto the back of her head. Christine had fallen to the ground, her hand slipping from his, and Raoul had been furious, chasing Phillip about the maze. Christine had followed the both of them until they came to the center of the maze. Raoul had expected Christine to be crying, upset with Phillip for hitting her, but Christine had instead asked Phillip for some of the water bombs so they could play too, a large grin on her face as she stuck her hand out. It was one of Raoul's favourite memories of Christine.

"Well, if she isn't angry, then she's at least displeased with me." Raoul retorted. "And Christine wasn't angry, she was just happy that you were playing with us."

Phillip picked up his toast, taking a bite. "I'm betting that Christine is angry not because of you or your feelings, but because of how you went about it. She's had a hard time of it recently, getting charmed by Erik Destler and then dumped like a sack of potatoes. I daresay that your timing was off, little brother."

"I didn't do it on purpose, Phillip." Raoul argued. "You should have heard her, the way she spoke about him. I've never heard her talk so passionately about anyone, apart from her dad."

Phillip cast him a confused glance. "And you thought, '_Hey, let's just make things more confusing for her_'."

"No!" Raoul moaned. "I kissed her without thinking, I just needed her to feel how I felt. The words she spoke, I know they were about him, but it was as though she was repeating my own thoughts back to me."

Philip still looked confused. "What?"

"Christine... She said she _loved_ him." Raoul chuckled without mirth. "That's crazy, right? I'm not the only one that thinks that, am I? She doesn't know anything about him, she doesn't know what he looks like. The guy must be twice her age or something, and he's _crazy_. I got to talk to him, only for a few minutes, but there's something not right about him. Christine is nuts for him though. She was really depressed those first few days she was back, she didn't want to eat, she didn't want to do anything."

Phillip smiled sadly, and stared at Raoul's plate. Raoul followed his gaze, then groaned as he looked back at Phillip. "I know what you're going to say, but there's no point, I can see it myself."

"Do you? You make it sound like love is predictable, that it follows a timetable and sticks to it. You should know better than anyone that love is uncontrollable."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean, you fell in love with Christine when you were six years old, the first time you saw her. It was love at first sight, even though you didn't realize it until that Caragan lad started to hit on her."

"Jeremy Caragan would have made more sense." Raoul grumbled. "Jeremy didn't wear a _mask_."

"I agree, it _would_ make more sense, but do you think that love is about making sense? Sometimes love is instantaneous, sometimes it waits. Love can be found in the strangest of places. Just because he wears a mask doesn't mean he's untrustworthy."

Raoul looked up, skeptical. "You're _kidding_."

"Christine obviously trusts him." Phillip shook his head, turning back to his newspapers. "I do hope she's doing alright. Poor girl must be upset, still. I would not blame her in the slightest, that Destler fellow can be awfully cruel sometimes."

Raoul watched Phillip for a moment. "Do you _know_ him?"

Phillip hummed, still reading some article. "We've corresponded, in regards to business. He produced the designs for Levenham's manor, near the abbey, and I provided him with the men and materials he needed to have it constructed. Intelligent man, but he is rather odd."

Raoul stared at his brother, his mouth hanging open. "You've _spoken_ with him?"

Phillip looked up from the papers, shrugging. "Through emails." Phillip paused, to think. "We did meet once when he came to oversee the development. It was late at night, after the workers had gone home. I'd stayed behind to look over the plans. They were brilliant, I'd never seen such masterful work before. The details, the exact measurements, it was like the understood the profession better than anyone. I lost track of the time, I was trying to figure out his plans, but they were beyond me. He appeared out of thin air."

Raoul held his breath. "What happened?"

"Not much, at first. I was on the building site, all alone one moment, and then I looked up to see his white mask floating in the darkness ahead of me. I was rather taken aback, but I think I did pretty well in hiding my surprise. I never even knew he was in the country, he'd made no mention of coming to see it for himself, but he told me that he visited all of his buildings. He hadn't been expecting anyone else there, it was quite late, so I imagine we were both rather surprised to see each other. We talked for a while, business mainly. He didn't come very close, he kept his distance. He was... He was very striking. His voice was like thawing ice, it was cold, but there was something there that made you feel relaxed. I felt so calm around him, I've never felt so restful..."

Phillip had been looking out of the windows, a grim expression on his face as he stared off into space. His eyes lowered, a thought crossing his path, and Raoul waited for him to go on. He was enthralled with Phillip's story, hanging onto every word. It only proved how strange Erik truly was. Phillip turned his head back to Raoul.

"He left soon afterwards. It wasn't until I got home that I realized what had happened. The man, he has a way of talking. He could have told me that the sky was green and I would have believed him. I wouldn't mind speaking with him again, he was fascinating." Phillip blinked, and remembered what they had originally been talking about. "I wouldn't worry too much about Christine. I bet you now that she's had some time to herself, she misses you too. You two have been inseparable, she'll call eventually. And even if she doesn't, then you should call her."

Raoul nodded as Phillip stood up to make himself some tea at the breakfast bar. "Are you sure? What if I just make things worse?"

"Of course I am sure," Phillip scoffed, his back to Raoul as he spooned some sugar in his tea. "I think you underestimate that girl. She's tough, but Christine needs you right now. Even if she doesn't love you back, it doesn't mean she doesn't love you-"

Phillip turned around as the doors that led to the main hall suddenly opened, and Raoul turned in his seat to look at Maguire, the family butler, who had entered the room. He was a short elderly man that had worked for Raoul's parents ever since their marriage, who had the utmost respect for his employers. Raoul had always liked him, the man took pride in his job and Raoul had been about to smile at Maguire, but the disturbed look on his face made Raoul quirk a brow.

"Everything alright, Maguire? You look rather rattled." Phillip asked, stirring his tea.

Maguire cleared his throat, and masked the discomfort on his face, flustered as he stood a little taller. "Yes, Sir, quite alright. There is a Mr. Erik Destler here to call upon Master Raoul."

Silence settled around them, and Raoul stared at Maguire, blinking a few times. He wasn't sure he had heard him clearly, and looked at Phillip. Phillip looked just a shocked as him, having stopped stirring his tea, and a look of wonder came across his face.

"My lord." Phillip chuckled, astonished. " Are you serious? Where is he?"

"He's waiting in the library, Sir."

"Is that so?" Phillip, bemused, turned to Raoul with a grin on his face. "You better not keep him waiting. He's not exactly a patient man."

Raoul's eyes widened. "I... I..." Raoul stared back at Maguire. "What did he say he was here for?"

"He didn't, Sir." Maquire answered, and Raoul could see the twitch in his upper lip that signalled that Maquire was greatly irked by Erik's lack of etiquette and social skills.

Raoul turned back to Phillip and was at a loss for words, stammering over any attempt he made, by Phillip rolled his eyes, walking around the table.

"Raoul, don't be rude, go say hello to him."

"Why is he _here_? He's supposed to be in _New York_!"

Phillip smiled. "Can you not think of a single reason?"

Raoul grimaced. "They're not _dating_ anymore. He's dating Carlotta Giudicelli."

"Then you better go and find out why he's here. If it's about Christine, then it may be important."

Raoul couldn't understand why then Erik had come to Raoul. From their last conversation, they had not gotten along. Raoul couldn't make heads or tails of it, there was no logical reason as to why Erik had come calling for him, or even how he knew Raoul was there. Raoul felt chills run down his spine as he remember his brother's words, and how entranced he had looked. Raoul was very nervous, he did not want to end up spellbound by the masked weirdo, like Phillip and Christine had, and Raoul tried to come up with a reason to not speak with the masked recluse, but the only thing that came to his mind was his promise to Erik. _If you break Christine's heart, I'll break your mask. _Raoul felt something stir in him, something he had not felt in some time. The desire to punish someone on Christine's behalf.

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**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


	83. Chapter 83

_**Wanda Jackson's **__**"Right Or Wrong"**_

_Right or wrong I'll be with you  
I'll do what you ask me to  
For I believe that I belong  
By your side, right or wrong_

_Right or wrong it's got to be  
Always you, always me  
Won't you take me along  
To be with you right or wrong?_

_If it's right for me to love you  
It can't be wrong for me to care  
If you will say you love me  
My life with you I'll share_

_Right or wrong, day by day  
All my love, all the way  
For I believe that I belong  
By your side, right or wrong_

* * *

Christine knew she had upset Erik, it was obvious from the way he held himself around her now, but Christine was adamant that her wish for Erik to remove his mask would help them. He rarely touched her, and he did not even try to do so discreetly. Christine had loved the way that he had held onto her clothing when he thought she wasn't looking, but now he was acting so carefully around her that he made sure he wasn't touching any part of her, not even letting their clothes touch. Christine had to persuade him to let her hold his hand, and even then he never looked comfortable. He was jumpy, always making sure he knew where she was whenever he removed his mask to eat, and Christine tried to reach out to him, to soothe his fears, but Erik was still trying to resist her and her love. Christine could see that he wanted to be comforted, but something was holding him back, and Christine hated the fact that it was because of his fears of her reaction to his face. When she was alone, whenever Erik was in a different room, Christine let herself feel sad. Christine knew she could make Erik happy, if he would only give her the chance, but she just seemed to make things worse. Christine didn't know what to do, but she was resolved to keep her promise to Erik.

She would kiss him, no matter what Erik thought. It was slowly taking over her every thought, imagining kissing Erik. She wasn't sure what to expect beneath the mask, Erik's words about how she had not seen how people had previously reacted to his face scared her, but Christine felt that it wouldn't be the same for her. None of those people loved him, none of them wanted to see his face for any reason other than curiosity, but Christine wanted to see his face so that she could press her cheek to his, see him laugh, and above all, she wanted to see his eyes meet hers. She wanted to see him look at her, she wanted to be able to look at him, all of him. She wanted to know if his eyes would light up or if he would smile. Christine wanted to watch his lips move when he spoke, she wanted to be able to touch his face, to feel his breath against her skin, to feel his eyelashes brush against hers when they kissed. Christine could feel her heart give off little tremors whenever she thought about kissing Erik. It made her think of poetry and butterflies and warm winds that carried the smell of the ocean.

Erik may not have wanted to touch her, but he did watch her sleep, though. A few times, Christine had been lying in bed, trying to sleep, when she would feel Erik's presence in the open doorway. She would lie there, eyes closed, feeling confused, but she never said a word. He wouldn't stay long, and he never entered the room, but Christine wished that he would. Once, she had opened her eyes, to ask him to come in, but when she looked, there was no sight of Erik. She would never mention it to him the morning after, and if he knew she was awake, he never mentioned it either. He would always come knocking on her bedroom door at 9AM, mask turned respectfully to the floor, with breakfast waiting for her in the living room. Erik was always so kind to her, he insisted on preparing her breakfast. The first day after she had agreed to sing for him, he had left a large manuscript sitting beside her orange juice and cereal. He had stood beside her seat, his hands firmly at his sides as he bowed his head on her entrance by way of greeting her. Christine had picked up the large manuscript, titled 'Hannibal', and had looked up at Erik inquisitively. He told her that it was the opera he believed to be most suitable for her, and asked her to spend the day reading it. Erik watched her carefully as she thumbed through it, nervously talking about someone called Chalumeau who had written the opera, but Erik had apparently been re-writing as part of a pet project.

Christine had been impressed. Erik had printed it off of her computer, though it looked as though it had been previously scanned, as she could read Erik's scribbled notes all over it. From the looks of it, Erik had re-arranged some lines, scribbled out some of notes to replace them with different ones, and from what she could see, Erik had made a lot of improvements on the opera. Christine didn't understand it all, her father had not taught her to sight read, but she could read the script. Erik told her that she would play 'Elissa', the love interest of Hannibal, who was a famous general who was known for having used elephants to cross the alps. He pointed out her aria, 'Think of Me', and on reading it, Christine had realized why he had chosen it. It was beautifully written, barely edited by Erik, but the lyrics made her want to hug Erik tightly and never let go. Eliza was singing to remember her lover, Hannibal, who had left to go fight the Romans, and in the song, she asked him to never forget her. She sang of their love, and begged him to think of only the good times they had shared. Christine felt her insides squirm about inside her as she realized what Erik was subtly asking her to do. He was asking her to never forget _him_, and it touched Christine deeply.

Christine held out the script to him, and asked him to read it to her, a smile firmly planted on her face. She would show him that there was nothing for him to be afraid of, and Erik took it from her, his voice sounding a little warmer as they spent the day discussing the opera. It was a beautiful story, Christine really enjoyed listening to Erik tell the story of Hannibal. Once he got started, Erik had really opened up, putting on different voices, explaining the story behind the opera as he told her about Chalumeau and his work. He held out the manuscript between them so he could point out what edits he had made, delighted when Chrisitne showed interest. He was very proud of his work, and was eager to see what she thought, but when she confessed that she could not understand his notes on the arrangement, Erik had been shocked. He had turned silent, and Christine wondered what he was thinking. She hoped that it didn't mean that Erik would delay her debut because of it. As much as she thought that she would never be ready in three months, she did not want to put it off any longer. She voiced her opinion, but Erik reassured her, promising her that he would teach her how to sight read before her debut. Somehow, in the back of her head, she read that as, '_Before you leave me forever'_.

Erik left her to read the rest of the opera herself, and though Christine was disappointed, she would not let him down. She spent the rest of the day pouring over the manuscript, sitting in strange position on her sofa while Erik brought her tea, or something to nibble on. Christine had hardly been aware of his presence once she got into the flow of it, she had even laughed at a few of Erik's doodles, which often criticized Chalumeau's original work. Erik blamed the poor composition for lack of character depth, he reprimanded the original composer's notes, he even accused Chalumeau of grammatical errors and such, and Christine had gotten so involved with the side story of watching Erik argue with a dead composer that she had forgotten to actually read the opera. Reading Erik's unusual scribbling was far more interesting than the opera itself, and Christine eagerly read on, looking for more disputes between Erik and the original score.

When she had finished, Erik had been watching her as she looked up, blinking as she pulled herself back into the real world. Or as real as it could get, with Erik hovering over her shoulder. He asked her what she thought, and she had smiled, telling him that she would love to play the part of Elissa. Erik knelt beside her as she lay on the couch, dropping the manuscript onto her lap as she watched him slowly take her hand. He rubbed her knuckles, promising her that the role was hers. Christine felt as light as a feather as he held her hand, and grew excited as Erik went on to tell her that he had secured them a studio for her to rehearse in. He maintained that she practice for three hours everyday, and Christine had been anxious, worried that she would lose her voice after a week. Erik had shown no regard to that matter, so she supposed that she shouldn't have been too concerned either. Christine asked him whether she would still be working at the cafe, but that subject hadn't occurred to him seemingly.

Erik tried to convince Christine that she no longer had to work there, that he would look after her, but Christine didn't see it that way. It wasn't just a way of paying her bills, though she did need to pay her late rent and think about going grocery shopping, but it was a way of socializing, a chance for her to breath and feel like a normal person. As much as she loved Erik, Christine felt so isolated, just cut off from the world, and while in the past, Christine had loved her alone time with Erik, she could understand now why Nadir had always been a constant presence. He had been a kind of buffer, a kind of lightning rod that diverted the pure power that ran between them. Erik was very possessive of her attention, especially now that they were alone, and Christine often felt tired from the way that Erik clung to her skirts, so to speak. She was touched that he seemed so fascinated by her, but she felt so ordinary beside him, and it was exhausting trying to live up to his expectations. Christine wished she could have had someone to talk to, and she considered phoning Nadir, but she held herself back. There was no doubt in her mind that Erik had already informed his friend of what had occurred between them, if he hadn't already. Nadir was Erik's confidante, not hers, and Christine had happy to let Erik have someone he could confide in, but Christine desperately wished she had someone for herself to talk to. Erik agreed to let her continue working, saying that while he did not like the idea, it would give him time to get his affairs in order, and handle the business side of putting on an opera. He begged her not to return for a few days though, so that he could listen to her sing and properly prepare his music lessons for her. Christine accepted his conditions, she was just thrilled that she would get to go outside and feel a little more like herself.

Erik had taken her to see the new studio, holding her fingers the entire way there as she clung to the pages he had given her, and Erik had proudly opened the doors to a large, empty studio, with a piano sitting in the furthest corner of the room that was waiting for them. The whole room was white, with mirrors on one wall, and large floor to ceiling windows that took up two walls, overlooking the center of London. The loud city life below her drew her attention, as they both went to stand by the windows, several floors above the ground, surrounded by overbearing tower blocks that hid the sunlight from her eyes. It made Christine feel very small, and Christine had turned to see Erik standing behind her, admiring the view as well. He looked magnificent in his suit, standing tall with his hands behind his back as he regarded the entirety of London as though it was his domain. Christine couldn't make out where he was looking, but it was somewhere across the Thames, and it interested him greatly.

"Do you like the view?" He asked calmly, turning the mask to look at her.

"Yes." Christine answered, nodding as she turned to look back out of the window. "You can see everything. You can see my father's cemetery over there, if you squint."

Christine pointed out of the windows behind her, on her left, towards a thin sliver of space between two buildings, where she could just make out the green graveyard. It seemed so far away, but her father was never far away from her thoughts. She had been thinking about him on the car journey over, looking at Erik's hand as he held hers. Christine tried to imagine what her father would say about her life now, but she honestly couldn't predict his advice. Christine wondered how he would feel about Erik being in her life, teaching her to sing. Her father would have been very happy to hear that she was singing again, but she didn't know if he would have wanted her to do it professionally. It had always just been a silly dream between them, that one day, Christine would sing on stage, but they had never made any plans or seriously discussed it. They had gone to many shows together, but he had never asked her to audition for any.

"I haven't shown you any of his pictures, have I?" Christine mused.

Erik shook his head. "I have seen the pictures of your home in Sweden on your fridge. It looks very beautiful."

Christine smiled. "_Did_, look beautiful. I have no idea what it looks like now."

"Who owns it now?"

"My father's benefactor. He called her Mamma Valerius, I think. She used to buy my father's compositions, before my mother passed away. She used to be very close to my family. He asked her to look after it for him. He didn't want to sell it, but he couldn't live there anymore. I don't know if she still owns it now."

Erik nodded slowly, to show he had heard her. "I'm sure it is being well looked after."

Christine smiled wistfully. "I'll have to show you the rest of the pictures. I have a scrapbook in my room, it has every photo that I could find of my parents."

Erik's mask tilted to one side, then peered down at the floor. "I would also like to pay my respects."

"To my father?" Christine asked. "You want to visit his grave?"

"If... If that would be alright." Erik paused, lifting the mask slightly. "I would like to thank him."

Christine was nonplussed. "Thank him?"

"Yes. For you." Erik's mask lifted completely so he could look at her. "You said that it was because of your father that we met. If that is true, then I must thank him."

Christine smiled broadly. "I would love to take you to meet my father."

"Actually, Christine, I would like to go alone, if I may?"

"Alone? Are you sure?" Christine questioned. Raoul had never expressed any interested in visiting her father's grave by himself, though he had accompanied her on a few occasions, such as the date of his death, and his birthday. For Erik to come out and ask her permission, it was an odd feeling, but she felt very warm and content.

"Yes. There are words I must have with him. I feel I should explain myself." Erik paused. "Is that odd? To wish to speak with your father? I do not imagine it is common practice to talk to the dead as such."

Christine shook her head, smiling to herself. "No, I talk to him whenever I visit him. It helps."

"Then... Then perhaps you should come, after all. If it helps." Erik said nervously.

Christine sighed, and brought her gaze away from Erik's mask. She didn't think that talking to her father would help her. There was no sign that he could give her, no words that she would understand. In the past, visiting her father's grave had been special to her, a pilgrimage of sorts, to help center herself. She didn't mind Erik visiting his grave, her father, had he known him, would have welcomed him, but Christine was hesitant to visit his tombstone herself. She was afraid what words her father would try to convey to her. He must have had so many thoughts revolving around her. Her new relationship with Erik, what she had learned about him, and Raoul, poor Raoul. Christine wondered what her father would make of Raoul no longer being in her life, and she tiredly ran a hand through her hair as though it would help her. Erik had been watching her, but he heard her sad sigh and stepped around her, to look at her face.

"Your father would be proud of you." He said, his voice sounding very confident and sure.

"Would he?" Christine questioned. Her thoughts must have been written across her face for Erik to know what she had been thinking.

"Of course he would, Christine. He would be proud of you no matter what you did." Erik said, lifting his head to look behind her, back in the direction of her father's cemetery.

"I don't know. So much has changed. I don't know if he'd even recognize me." Christine sighed, looking up at him.

Erik turned his mask to look at her, and it hung in the air, as Erik took a deep breath. Light glinted off the mask's shiny cheeks and forehead as it streamed in through the window. The eyes never focused on anything, but Christine could feel Erik's attention on her sharpen.

"Do you... Do you miss your old life?" He asked warily. "Before I came into it?"

Christine opened her mouth to answer that she didn't, but the words failed to come, and instead she bit her lower lip hard, looking back out the windows. It was true, She missed her father, but since meeting Erik, she felt the pain a little less each day. She didn't think of him as often as she used to. "Sometimes." She mumbled guiltily.

Erik watched her as she adjusted her grip on the page he had placed in her care. It was the score of 'Think of Me', and she stared at it, thinking of the words to Elissa's aria, and Christine looked up at him, smiling. "But I'd miss you if you left. I never want you to leave."

"But nonetheless, you feel the difference and mourn what you have lost." Erik said flatly.

"That's what change is." Christine replied. "Change is important, for us to move on, and grow, and-"

"Christine, you are sad. I can see it on your face. You miss him."

Christine gave a gentle smile, as she thought of her father. "I do. He was always there for me, ready to listen to whatever I had to say. My father was a-"

"Not him," Erik said, shaking his head. "Raoul."

"_Raoul_?" Christine looked up, startled. She thought they had been speaking of her father, not of Raoul.

"Yes, I can see it, you _miss_ him."

Christine winced, turning away. "No, I don't," She lied, "I just-"

"-_Miss_ _him_. I know you do, Christine, please don't be afraid to tell me how you feel." Erik whispered tenderly, reaching up to stroke a ringlet. "He is your best friend, despite what has occurred, and to no longer see him, regardless of my own feelings, gives you pain."

Christine bowed her head shamefully. "Is it so obvious?"

"No, but I can tell." Erik said, lifting her face to meet his, before pulling his hand away. "You don't say anything... But I can tell."

"I don't know what to do, Erik. I'm so confused." Christine moaned, running a hand over her face. "It seems to be all I can think about. I just wish I could talk to him, really talk to him and try to understand. I'm scared though, I haven't heard from him since he left, and he must be so angry with me. I know I've disappointed him, but I don't know how to fix this. I don't know how to without hurting anyone. If I say I want to see him, that that will hurt you. If I never try to see him again, then Raoul will be hurt. I can't have both of you, but I can't have neither of you. I don't want to lose anyone, but-"

"Hush, Christine." Erik whispered, carefully lifting one hand to her cheek, and Christine closed her eyes as she felt his gloved palm brush over her skin, calming her. "I'm sorry, Christine. I have been inconsiderate and greedy. I never thought you would miss him this much. It grieves you, my dear, to be separated from him. I know that pain, I have felt it myself, to be apart from you, and I would never wish for you to know that stress."

Christine stared at Erik, unable to breath. Erik had never spoken of how he had taken their time apart, but she could hear in his voice exactly how he felt. He understood her anxiety, and Christine felt so conflicted. One part of her was begging her to feel his pain, to understand how hard this was for Erik to admit, but the other part was hoping that he was saying that he would not mind it if she asked to see him.

"It's not your fault, Erik. It's no-one fault, it's just _change_. It's scary and it's painful, but it's necessary." Christine sighed, banishing her previous thoughts.

Erik rubbed her cheekbone with his thumb. "There must be something I can do."

Christine would not ask him. She would not ask Erik to let her see Raoul. It would crush him, it would break his heart in seconds, and she didn't want to hurt him. Erik would think things that weren't true, and he would be stuck in his beliefs. He would see it as a betrayal, and it was the furthest thing from her mind, but he had asked her to never hide her feelings from him.

"There's _nothing_. Raoul thinks that we can't get along now that I know he loves me, and you two won't be able to get along, you'll be constantly bickering, and I don't want to play piggy in the middle. I can't have you two arguing because of me, it wouldn't be fair to anyone."

Erik nodded, pulling his hand away from her face as she shrugged pathetically. "And now you are stuck with me."

Christine grabbed his shirt's cuff. "No, I didn't say that."

"Christine, it would make you very happy to see him, wouldn't it?"

"Erik-"

"Wouldn't it? If I brought him to you, and left you alone so that you may speak..." Erik gingerly peeled her fingers from his shirt sleeve. "Christine would be very happy, wouldn't she?

"Erik, think about your _own_ happiness!" Christine argued. "You think about mine all of the time but you never consider your own feelings. I know you don't want to see Raoul, you don't want me to see him, but you keep pushing me towards him, and it's _killing_ me." Christine cried, tearing her hand away from his.

Erik's hand hung in the air as he listened to her impassioned speech, and spoke softly, "Your happiness _is_ my happiness, Christine. It is true, I do not ever want to meet him, but... But being one half of a couple requires that I make compromises and allowances. Nadir often made that point quite clear, when speaking of Amira."

Erik removed the manuscript from Christine's hands, and walked over to the piano, to drop the pages on top of it. "I do not understand the desire to socialize, but I understand _your_ need for it. I have never needed another person in my life, before you. Those that have entered my life often do not stay long. Nadir is an oddity, in that respect. He is my friend, my _only_ friend, and until a few weeks ago, I would never have considered calling him by that name. Before Nadir, it was only me. I had no wish to converse with any human, though there were times when I thought I could stand to be around them. I think, if I were to no longer call Nadir my friend, I would be upset too."

Erik looked up. "If you are sad and I can do something to not make you sad anymore, then I will do it, no matter what it may cost me. I only ever want your happiness, Christine."

"I know, Erik. Thank you." Christine crossed the room, to stand beside Erik, and wrapped her arms around his stomach, resting her cheek against his chest. She felt him relax as he placed a hand on the back of her head. It felt good to be slowly back on the mend, but she was still so concerned about Erik's desire to let her speak with Raoul. He did not sound angry with her for wanting to see him, he seemed rather encouraged by it, and Christine didn't want to have to think about what it all really meant.

"I shall go see him." Erik promised. "After your lesson."

"Erik, shouldn't I go with you?" Christine asked, lifting her head from his chest. "I don't think that going on your own-"

"It will be okay, Christine. I will be polite with him. I shall be on my very best behavior, but I feel that I must also have words with him. Words that I do not think you would appreciate were I to say them in front of you."

Christine smiled lopsidedly. "You're going to give him a lecture on kissing me?

"And what should happen should he attempt to try it again." Erik quickly looked down at her. "I didn't mean-"

"I trust you." Christine whispered, dropping her head back onto Erik's chest as she smiled.

"Thank you, Christine. I promise you, while we may not be on friendly terms, we will not be rivals for your love."

"I'm glad to hear that, but I'm not holding my breath." Christine said, frowning. "We don't even know if Raoul will agree to see you!"

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**Thank you all for your reviews! ****Thank you so much for your input and your support!**


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